Scheherazade
by Mangaka-chan
Summary: A young woman serendipitously crosses paths with Ahiru and Fakir and ends up living with them. What is her secret and how will her presence affect their relationship as the words from a Spinner’s tales encircle them once again? Post series FxA
1. The Girl Who Could Not Speak

_Scheherazade_

A _Princess Tutu_ fanfic by Mangaka-chan

This is my first _Princess Tutu_ fanfic and I believe I am not alone in falling in love with this anime after watching it. I got the idea for this story soon after I finished watching the anime but hesitated in putting any words down until I've thought out the plot in more details. Having seen other great continuation fanfics around the net, I hope my story will be able to measure up to the high standards that have been set by fellow _Princess Tutu_ fans.

Here I would like to make some clarifications in case anyone gets confused. The names of the characters are based on those given in the U.S. released DVDs with the exception of Ahiru's name, of whom I will still use the original Japanese name.

Disclaimer: I do not own _Princess Tutu_ or its characters, but I do claim ownership to my original characters.

_First Night - "The Girl Who Could Not Speak"_

Fakir blinked. The shimmering surface of the lake was the same as ever, except perhaps the sunlight had grown more golden than he last remembered. But the little yellow duck that had been in front of his eyes before was no longer in his sight. Turning his emerald eyes to the left, the bobbing head of the said duck appeared above the water surface, swimming contently in the lake.

The former knight relaxed again and looked back down at the paper sitting on his lap. It had become their habit to come to the lakeside each day whenever the weather permitted. Wearing a simple white shirt, dark brown vest and ink blue pants, Fakir would sometime hold the little duck in his arm or let her waddling by his side as they walked from town to the lake. Afterwards he would sit on the dock and write while his fishing pole hung over the side and the little duck would enjoy herself in the water.

There was a rhythm to their lives now, a predictable steady pace that did not exist when they had been involved in Drosselmeyer's story. Mytho and Rue have their happy ending as well, and even though Fakir had no idea what has happened to them since leaving Kinkan, the dark haired young man had a feeling that he didn't need to worry about the future of those two people anymore.

It would seem then that everyone was living happily, but that was not so. The words on the paper came into focus in Fakir's eyes. His writing had filled only a few pages of parchment, words that had been written down shortly after _The Prince and The Raven_ ended. They were products of a fierce motivation that had consumed Fakir's hand, a feeling that had now all but disappeared.

It was Ahiru, the little duck bobbing by his side, whose story was written on the paper and whom Fakir was worried about. It isn't difficult to say the words "happily ever after" but attaining real happiness wasn't so simple. Ahiru was the one who suffered the most during the struggle to collect Mytho's heart and again when they fought the Raven. Despite all of her suffering she has received nothing, no reward, no glory. It was true that she's a duck, both of them have come to terms with that fact; but even if she was to remain a bird forever Fakir couldn't help but feel she should receive _something_ in return for her all efforts.

Bathed in the warm light of the afternoon sun, Fakir wondered if wanting to write another story about Ahiru was an act of selfishness, that perhaps he wasn't inspired by hope but by guilt. After all, she gave up so many of the things she loved due to his words in the Lake of Despair. Unfortunately, in the beginning he did not think about things that deeply as he was driven by impulse but he had forgotten to take one very important fact into account, and that was not everything he wrote came true. That was the flaw that caused his parents' death. That reminder had stopped his hand from writing for days now as his quill sat, devoid of ink, in the bag he carried to the lake everyday.

When they had joined forces to help Mytho fight the Raven, Fakir had to struggle against Drosselmeyer's power over him and what the deceased Spinner was doing to Ahiru. With Drosselmeyer's influence gone, Fakir knew only his writing will affect Ahiru now and if anything happens to her as a result, he alone would be responsible. And if he wrote something that ended up harming her instead, there was no second force in existence to take part of the blame. This was a gamble, a gamble with himself and a gamble where the risks were great but the probability of winning was unknown. He hoped what he writes will come true in full, but fear and uncertainty held his quill from the paper the pen yearned to touch. This was a dread different from what he experienced when he realized Mytho wanted his heart back. It wasn't a fear for his own safety but for Ahiru's, and although Fakir could not explain it, this fear that harm may come to the little duck ran just as deep, maybe even deeper, than the fear he felt when he thought he was to be torn in two.

"Quack?"

The little quack jerked Fakir out of his thoughts. Shifting his gaze from the paper to the water again, Ahiru's bright blue eyes were looking back at him.

"What is it, Ahiru?"

Ahiru looked at him with a duckling's concerned expression. _Fakir's spacing out again…_ She thought to herself. _He was writing quite a bit just after the story ended, but I haven't seen him write anything in days. I wonder if something's wrong..._

Ahiru knew full well that Fakir wasn't an expressive person, and on the rare occasions when she had a chance to glance into his heart those experiences were brief. Even though it took a long time for them to accept each other's presences and finally to trust one another, by now the two of them have become friends. But even so it was still hard for Ahiru to figure out what Fakir was thinking. Although his expression wasn't as tight as it used to be, a slight scowl seemed to have been etched permanently onto his face. Sometimes when he fell into his sullen mood, Ahiru wished she could still talk and comfort him with words. But as she was now, all she could do is try to understand what he's feeling and reassure him as best as she could.

"Qua…quack, quack?"

She tilted her head to show her query. Seeing the concern in her eyes, those blue eyes that remained the same no matter what form she's in, Fakir looked away and stood up. "There's nothing to worry about, idiot." He picked up the fishing pole, collected the papers and put them away, his shoes causing the wood of the dock to creak slightly as he moved.

Ahiru looked at him indignantly and sighed. If she thought returning Mytho's heart was tough, getting Fakir to speak his mind was a hundred times harder.

"But thanks for caring," Fakir said with his back to her. Then he turned around, and Ahiru could see a faint smile hanging at the corner of his mouth. "Come on, let's go back before the sun sets."

Ahiru blinked and she smiled inside. Fakir may be the most poker-faced person she knew but he did have a good heart.

"Quack!" she agreed happily and waddled towards the shore to Fakir who stood waiting for her.

The two lone figures cast long shadows on the small country road leading back to Kinkan Town. Ahiru's feathered tail swayed from side to side as she walked, while beside her, Fakir took small but sure-footed steps so the two of them could travel at the same pace. To any casual onlooker this miniature parade of boy and duck might've seemed odd and perhaps to those inclined to think so, rather cute as well. But to the two characters walking side by side, at the moment all they felt was the comfortable reassurance from each other's presence, and the peace that they had both earned.

Indeed, life unattached to Drosselmeyer's story was calm and serene, an idyllic existence that the Knight now Writer wished could last forever. But was it really possible to preserve peace eternally?

Or is peace simply an illusion foreshadowing more tragedy?

* * *

_Hmm, I wonder what will be for dinner tonight? Maybe there will be some bread left from breakfast this morning! That was tasty…_As Ahiru was enjoying swimming in her own thoughts, a rustle from a nearby bush caught her attention. 

"Quack?"

Ahiru stopped and looked at the little bush to her right. For a few seconds nothing happened but just as Ahiru was about to move on, the leaves rattled again. Seized by her curiosity, Ahiru came up to the bush and poked her feathered head inside. Sitting behind the bush was a crouched, bundled figure. The sparse light that managed to get through the leaves showed the person to be covered in a worn brown cloak. Ahiru was still quite a few feet away from the figure but due to her small stature, she was able to move through the branches to the other side.

The figure's head rose sharply at the noise Ahiru made and suddenly a startled Ahiru was looking into a pair of clear lavender-colored eyes.

"Ahiru? Ahiru where are you?"

Ahiru heard Fakir's voice calling out to her and within another second, Fakir was standing over her, a clearly displeased look on his face. "What are you doing here? I thought you got left behind-" Just then Fakir noticed the person sitting in front of him and both of them reacted in surprise. At that moment, the sound of shouting voices reached their ears.

Fakir looked up and saw three men running their direction. Before Fakir had a chance to react, the figure suddenly got up and tried to dash out onto the road. However the person's cloak got caught on the bush, and the person stumbled. Fakir reached out and caught the figure before the person fell, but by now the three shouting strangers had caught up to them.

"Don't let her get away!" one of the men yelled. The figure who had fallen into Fakir's arms moved to hide herself behind him. One of the men reached forward and grabbed the girl's arm, trying to pull her forward. But the struggling girl held onto Fakir's shoulder with her free hand while trying to pull her other arm free, so that Fakir found himself in the middle of a fierce tug-of-war.

Meanwhile, Ahiru scurried from the bush to the middle of the road, only to see Fakir surrounded by four arguing strangers. She hurried over, fluttering her wings, trying to stop the commotion.

_What's going on?! Everybody stop fighting!_ Ahiru quacked loudly, adding her unintelligible voice to the throng of voices clamoring above her.

Fakir wasn't having any better luck at getting his voice heard either as he's pulled and pushed in the middle of this human tornado. "What the hell! Who are you people?" he shouted but both parties were too preoccupied to notice him.

Finally Fakir had had enough and shouted at the top of his lungs "Damn it! STOP!"

For the first time in what seemed like a very long minute, the noise fell away and everyone backed off slightly, finally giving Fakir room to breath. The girl hiding behind Fakir retreated into his shadow like it was a safety net and pulled her cloak tightly around her as she looked guardedly at the men who had come after her. Fakir glanced at her and turned his attention to the three men and demanded, "Who are you people and what is this all about?"

One of the men, a middle-aged man with ruddy cheeks, spoke up and explained, "We're merchants from the next town. This girl stole some of my goods when I wasn't looking so I followed her here."

"But why are there three of you chasing her if she only stole from you?" Fakir asked him back.

At his feet, Ahiru nodded. _That's right!_ _Three people against one isn't fair! _

The merchant pointed at the youngest of his group, a boy who looked no older than twelve years of age and had a messy bunch of brown hair. "He's my apprentice, and as for him," the merchant looked at the third man, a portly person about the merchant's own age who squinted his eyes as he looked on, "he's the one who saw her lift my stuff and told me about it."

Fakir listened silently but narrowed his eyes. "Just to be fair, let's see what's her side of the story." Looking over his shoulder at the girl behind him, he asked, "Did you steal from this man?"

The girl shook her head vehemently but otherwise did not utter a word.

Impatiently, the merchant stepped forward and shouted, "Of course a thief isn't going to admit what she did! Now if you will step out of the way, we need to take this little wench to the authorities!" So saying he reached out to grab the girl again but stopped when he felt the grip of Fakir's hand on his wrist.

"How can you be sure she was the one who stole from you if you didn't see it for yourself? From the way that man's squinting his eyes, he probably has poor vision. It might be possible that you have the wrong person and she really is innocent."

Hearing this, the man hesitated but he then retorted, "Even so, this is none of your business, young man! Don't get unnecessarily involved in this!"

Hearing this, Fakir released the man's hand and the man moved past him towards the girl. She backed away from him, but her foot tripped over a small rock in the road and she fell with a small whimper of pain. Just as the merchant was about to reach down to seize the girl, he suddenly noticed a little duck was standing in his way.

"What the-" the man laughed, "what's a little duck doing here?"

Fakir, who was ready to leave, turned around and saw Ahiru standing in front of the girl. From her defiant expression, he knew instantly what she was planning to do.

When the man saw that the little duck did not budge, he shouted, "What is wrong with this world? Even a stupid bird is trying to get in my way! Shoo!" He lifted his foot, aiming to kick Ahiru. Ahiru snapped her eyes shut and waited for the man's boot to slam into her. But the impact never came. Instead she felt a gust of movement in front of her, a loud snap, followed by a cry of pain.

When she opened her eyes, the man was sitting on the road with a wretched expression on his face and holding his neck with one hand. Ahiru could see the skin underneath his hand had a long red mark on it that resembled a lash mark. Looking up, she saw Fakir standing in front of her. In his right hand was the fishing pole, now pointed to the ground. For some reason the way Fakir was standing and the way he was holding the pole reminded her of the stance he held when using a sword.

"Damn it boy! Are you trying to help that thief?!" the man who had been knocked to the ground demanded angrily.

"Not particularly," Fakir replied with his eyes closed and raised the pole in his hand. When his eyes opened the three men were momentarily stunned by the intensity they saw in this previously unassuming young man. "But if you try to injure _her_, I will make each of you pay for it!"

"Hmp, you'd best watch what you say kid, or else you'll be the one to pay for your imprudence!" so saying, the portly man with his fists clutched, ran toward at Fakir. With his highly tuned agility and speed, Fakir knelt down, deftly turned the pole around and with a quick trust, jabbed the butt of the pole into the man's lower jaw.

The blow knocked the man over and he landed with a loud thud, and was left with a missing tooth and his head spinning. His companion, the now shocked but furious merchant, stood back up and with his face now red as a prune, came rushing at Fakir.

However, Fakir was ready for him and swung the pole in a wide arch, hitting the man on the right shin. He clutched his leg in pain, halting his progress. By the time he looked up, Fakir was standing over him. With his hand, Fakir delivered a swift but hard chop to the back of the man's head and the once belligerent merchant slumped unconscious onto the dirt road.

With the two large men down for the count, Fakir turned his eyes to the young apprentice. Seeing Fakir looking at him, the younger boy broke into a sweat.

"Leave," Fakir said coldly.

The apprentice nodded his head rapidly and quickly went to rouse his master and the other man. Half carrying and half dragging them, he left the area as fast as he could.

With the pursuers chased off, Fakir finally turned to look back at Ahiru and the girl who remained slumped on the ground.

_Good job Fakir! You sure taught them a lesson!_ Ahiru congratulated the former knight with a series of quacks and flapped her wings.

To her dismay, Fakir bellowed at her "You moron! Were you trying to get yourself hurt back there? Don't do meaningless things like that ever again!"

Ahiru's happy mood towards Fakir instantly turned sour as she quacked back. _What do you mean meaningless things?! She was going to get hurt if I didn't stop that man!_ "Quack, quack, quack. Qua, quack!"

Unfortunately all Fakir heard was a series of unintelligible quacks which only increased his level of frustration.

"What?!"

"Quack! Quack, qua, quack!"

"I don't-!"

"Quack, quack!"

"I don't care whatever it is that you're trying to say, you are _still_ an idiot for pulling a stunt like that!"

"QUACK!!"

The heated but incoherent argument left the two of them tired and panting for breath. Ahiru's feathers were ruffled and Fakir wasn't looking any better.

The girl beside them made a sound and at long last the two remembered her presence.

Her large almond-shaped eyes were looking curiously at them and the two immediately stepped away from each other, both a little flushed from embarrassment. It was also at this time that they finally got a clear look at the girl's appearance. The travel-worn cloak she had wrapped herself in had loosened when she fell and the hood had slipped off her head to reveal a head of long wavy black hair and a blue hair band. A gold necklace hung around her slender neck and her skin was a creamy beige color, giving her an exotic air. Her clothes contributed to that effect for she wore a peacock blue shirt that revealed her midriff and purple organdy sleeves covering her arms. The loose purple pants she wore was held at her waist by a silk belt, and worn on her feet were blue heel-less shoes revealing she must've walked quite a distance in them.

It struck the writer and the duck that it was unusual for a foreigner to be wandering about, much less without any companion. _What is she doing here?_ Fakir found himself wondering. Putting those thoughts aside for the moment, he asked the girl "Are you all right?"

The girl nodded weakly and Fakir reached out a hand to help her up. The girl took his hand but the moment their hands touched both felt a jolt run through their bodies. However the sensation was gone before it had barely registered in their minds. Fakir blinked in confusion but when he looked at the girl she was staring at him with wide-open eyes, her mouth agape. Seeing his bewildered stare, the girl quickly turned her eyes away and allowed herself to be pulled up by Fakir's hand, but once she was standing again Fakir did not let go. He studied the girl closely but she kept her eyes adverted from his.

Ahiru, who was completely oblivious to the strange event that had just taken place, watched as Fakir at last released her hand. Unexpectedly, he then reached down and scooped the yellow duck up in his arm. To the girl he said, "If you follow this road back, you'll come across a forked intersection. Take the one to the right and that should lead you back to the main road. Good luck. " With that said, Fakir turned around and walked away without waiting for a response from the girl.

"Qua?" Ahiru looked at Fakir who was wearing his unreadable expression, then at the girl who was still standing in the middle of the road.

_That's odd,_ Ahiru thought, _why didn't Fakir tell her how to get to Kinkan instead? It's closer than any town that can be reached by the main road._ Ahiru was about to voice her question to the dark haired youth holding her, but when she saw the wary look in Fakir's eyes, she stopped herself. _What's going on? _Ahiru frowned but when she looked back again she saw that the girl was following them. Fakir noticed the girl's presence too but said nothing.

And so they walked, with the duck in the boy's arm and the strange girl following in tow. By the time they got back to Kinkan the sun had set and the sky was painted with strokes of fading red and a spreading dark blue. Located at the foot of the city wall, the light from the Schmied antique shop grew brighter as Fakir and Ahiru approached it through the empty street.

The sound of Fakir's shoes and of the girl's shoes were the only noise echoing along the cobble stone path. The rhythm of their steps was suddenly broken when Fakir stopped and faced the startled girl who had been at his heels. "You have been following us this whole time; what is it that you want?" Fakir demanded severely. The purple-eyed girl gulped and took a step back but said nothing.

"Well?" Fakir persisted.

He took a step forward and the girl inched back again but still, she did not utter a sound.

Fakir realized something. He said softly, "You can't talk…can you?"

The girl nodded slowly to confirm his suspicions.

In his arm, Ahiru felt her heart sink._ She can't talk? That's so sad…_

"Fakir, is that you? I thought I heard your voice. Whom are you talking to?" Karon's face appeared at the door of the shop and his kindly face displayed a look of surprise to find his adopted son standing with a young stranger at the door.

"She followed us back when we were coming back from the lake" Fakir explained. "From the way she's dressed and such, she's not from around here, and…she's mute."

Karon's eyes drifted from Fakir to the girl. He stepped out and took the girl by her hand "Poor child. Let's not have you standing outside when the air is getting cold. If you have no place to go to you are welcome to stay here for the night."

As Karon began to lead the girl in, Fakir objected, "Wait a minute, we don't know anything about her!"

Karon gave his son a light chiding look "Fakir, we can't let a girl spend a night on the streets by herself."

The corner of Fakir's mouth twisted unpleasantly but he did not argue any more with his foster father.

After dinner was served and the washing was done, Karon asked Fakir to give his room to their guest, to which Fakir did so very reluctantly. While Fakir was upstairs cleaning out the small storage room where he would be sleeping, downstairs the girl remain seated at the table while Karon brought her a cup of hot cocoa.

The girl looked curiously at the warm liquid as Karon took a seat across from her. Ahiru sat on the tabletop and watched as the girl brought the mug to her face, took a careful whiff of the drink before taking a sip. An approving expression appeared on her face as she took another sip of the hot drink.

"You've never had hot cocoa before?" Karon asked.

The girl shook her head but gave the older man a small smile. Karon chuckled "If you like it you are welcome to have a second cup."

As the girl put down the mug, she noticed Ahiru and looked at the little duck with a puzzled look. Noticing the direction of her gaze, Karon smiled at the duck "Her name is Ahiru. Fakir brought her home one day a few months ago and she's been with us ever since. People say it's odd for a boy to keep a duck as a pet but to me they seem more like friends than anything else."

"Quack!" Ahiru replied affirmatively.

Karon laughed. "Sometimes I think she can actually understand what we say; maybe that's why Fakir's so close to her. But it's strange," Karon's expression grew pensive "Before, Fakir used to go to the academy here in town but one day he suddenly said he didn't want to go any more, and it was on that same day that he brought Ahiru home. At times I wondered if his decision to quite the academy has something to do with her…"

Hearing Karon say that, Ahiru felt a little guilty. Her presence had dramatically altered Fakir's life and sometimes Ahiru couldn't help but wonder if Fakir missed the things he left behind to stay with her.

Waking from his thoughts, Karon looked up at the girl and perhaps realizing how odd this would sound to a stranger, he instead said, "Speaking of the academy, did you know Fakir is a very good dancer? He used to be one of the best. There was a boy who was his equal…but that's strange, I can't remember what his name is." Karon thought hard for a moment but when nothing registered he shook his head and shrugged off the thought. "Anyway, now he's found a new hobby in writing. He goes to the lake with Ahiru everyday to write now. That's probably the reason he decided to quit school, to have more time devoted to writing."

This seemed to pique the girl's interest and she leaned forward slightly to look inquiringly at Karon. "Do you want to know what he writes?" Karon asked. The girl nodded eagerly. "Well, stories mostly. He used to love to write stories as a child but only recently did he pick up writing again."

While Karon was saying this, Ahiru noticed the girl's eyes widen and the little yellow duck couldn't help but wonder why the girl was reacting so strangely to this seemingly minor piece of information about her host's adopted son.

The door to the dinning-room opened and a disgruntled Fakir walked in. "The room's ready," he said shortly, sparing a brief glance at the girl.

Karon smiled and nodded, "Thank you Fakir." To his young guest he said, "I hope you didn't mind my rambling; you must have had a tiring day. You can take Fakir's room; it's the one upstairs and to the right."

The girl bowed to Karon, who was taken rather aback by the gesture. After a few more words from the old shop owner, the girl made her way upstairs. As the girl went on her way, Ahiru hopped off the table. Seeing the duck leave the room, Fakir said to Ahiru, "Hey, where are you going?"

Ahiru turned and gave him what could've be a duck's version of a smile before flapping her wings and flying up to the top of the stairs. Fakir watched as Ahiru waddled toward the door of the room, and wondered what was it that the duck was trying to do this time.

Once upstairs, Ahiru was pleased to see that the door to Fakir's room wasn't completely closed and she managed to squeeze herself in through the crack without too much difficulty. The lamp on the desk shed a small halo of light into the room. The girl was standing beside the bed with her back half turned to Ahiru. From her low vantage point, Ahiru could see the girl was looking down at something on Fakir's window-side desk. As she watched the girl reached out one hand and to Ahiru's surprise, picked up a piece of paper from the stack Fakir had left on his desk. The paper was blank and yet Ahiru could see she was looking at it intently.

"Quack"

The girl hurriedly put the paper down after Ahiru announced her presence, but when the girl saw it was the little duck from earlier, she relaxed visibly. She sat down on the bed and motioned for Ahiru to join her. Wondering what the girl has in mind, Ahiru made her way onto the bed and sat down by the girl's side.

The girl reached out a hand and gently patted Ahiru's feathery head. Feeling the gentle touch from the girl's hand, Ahiru couldn't help but blush a little. When the girl lifted her hand away, she placed it over her heart, closed her eyes and made a small bow towards the yellow duck. At first Ahiru didn't understand, then she thought, D_oes she mean to thank me for standing up to those men?_

"Quack, quack?" 

The girl smiled and nodded which surprised Ahiru again. _Maybe she can understand what I say!_ With that hope in mind, Ahiru quacked her question to the girl. But to her disappointment, this time she only gave her a confused look.

_Guess not, but maybe she's a really perceptive person. In any case she doesn't seem like a bad person_, Ahiru thought positively.

The girl lowered herself onto the bed, face turned away from the lamplight, and curled her body into a sleeping position. Ahiru thought she must be exhausted after all that had happened to her today. She walked a little closer to the girl and studied her face. The first thing Ahiru noticed were her eyes again, which remained half open as she gazed absently into the gloomy recesses of the room. Despite the difference in color, they reminded Ahiru a lot of Mytho's eyes.

_But unlike Mytho she can smile and has a heart. Then what is it that's so similar between them?_ Ahiru looked closer and noticed something that seemed to shadow the otherwise brilliant violet of her eyes.

From the depth of her memory Ahiru remembered other similar eyes. The eyes of Ebine-san who suffered from the loss of her husband, of Paulamoni-san who was overwhelmed with uncertainty, and of the ghost maiden who had been left with a broken heart. This girl's eyes were filled with loneliness, apprehension, and sadness but this time Ahiru was sure the emotions belonged to no one but the girl herself. But there was no way for this girl to express herself to others, for like Ahiru, she didn't have a voice. Ahiru couldn't help but feel like she understand the difficulties this girl must have experienced due to their shared compulsory silence, and wanted to comfort her. But how? As Princess Tutu she was able to comfort people with her dance, as a girl she could comfort people with words; but as a duck, what could she do?

Ahiru walked closer to the girl and sat down beside her. Seeing the little duck settle down by her side, the girl smiled and the loneliness in her eyes lessened a bit. Ahiru smiled back with her eyes and the two of them lay there, side by side, and soon both girl and duck drifted off into sleep.

Sometime late, Fakir looked into the room to check on Ahiru, only to see her sleeping peacefully beside the mute girl. Even after knowing Ahiru for this long, he still didn't understand some of the things she did. Fakir sighed, but for some reason the scene before him gave him a sense of peace and the dark haired young man once again silently marveled at Ahiru's ability to affect the people around her, even when she wasn't a beautiful ballerina. As quietly as he could, Fakir closed the door and walked away, hiding his small smile in the darkness of the hallway.

* * *

By the time Ahiru woke up, the sunlight outside had already bathed the drawn curtains of the room in a soft glow. She blinked away the remaining drowsiness and yawned. The door opened and Fakir, dressed in his usual dark blue shirt and black pants, came into the room and saw that Ahiru was awake. 

"Morning, Ahiru."

Ahiru quacked back as Fakir went to open the curtains. She then noticed that the girl's cloak had been placed over her and looked back at her human friend.

"Qua?"

"Don't look at me, it was probably that girl who put it on you. And if you're wondering where she is, she's downstairs with Karon."

_I see…she really is a nice person!_ Ahiru smiled to herself but then she remembered the sadness and loneliness she had seen in the girl's eyes the night before. _Still, I wonder if there's anything I can do to help her… _

"Hey," Fakir's voice made Ahiru look up again. He gave her his usual smirk and said, "You need to stop getting lost in your own thoughts all the time. Come on, breakfast is ready."

Ahiru nodded and allowed herself to be carried by Fakir down the stairs. In the dinning room were Karon and the girl. Ahiru found her eyes drawn to the girl again. With her exotic outfit and pretty features, Ahiru thought it must be hard for anyone who saw her to ignore her.

Seeing Fakir come into the room, Karon said, "Ah, you're back Fakir."

Fakir put Ahiru down and set a small plate of her favorite breadcrumbs in front of her before sitting down at the table. "Did she tell you anything about herself?"

Karon frowned "Even though she can understand our language, unfortunately she doesn't know it well enough to use it in writing. But from her various signs and gestures it seems she's from a country far away in the east. I was just about to ask her why she's traveling so far from home." Back to the girl, he said, "You must had a goal in mind for you to have come this far? Are you looking for some place or someone?"

The girl lowered her eyes and shook her head slowly.

Karon leaned back in his chair. "That's odd, then why would you have wandered all the way to Kinkan?"

The girl's eyes looked up but she lowered them again and a pained expression overcame her face.

Seeing this, Karon asked gently, "Is it because you can't return to your home?"

At this the girl nodded. Karon sighed deeply, and the room became silent. Ahiru who had left her breakfast mostly untouched to listen to the conversation, felt another pang of pity for this unhappy girl.

"In that case," Karon suddenly spoke up, "I was thinking, would you be interested in staying here? You could help with some of the chores around the shop and live with us."

Three pairs of eyes opened wide at this suggestion. Fakir immediately objected. "Karon, we still know almost nothing about her! Are you sure about this?"

"Of course I am. Even though she can't speak, she's still able to communicate with us in other ways."

"That's not the problem!" Fakir shouted.

Patiently, Karon said "She has nowhere to go and no one to turn to, Fakir. But right now we have a chance to end her wandering. Everyone needs a place to return to, son. I don't see why we can't give her one here. And besides," the older man laughed "I think Ahiru agrees with me on this issue, seeing how well she and our guest got along together last night."

Fakir looked sharply at the said duck, who stared back at him stubbornly. _Karon-san's right; I want her to stay here too!_

Fakir shifted his gaze from Ahiru to the black haired girl. Seeing him looking at her, the girl pulled herself a little tighter into her chair but her eyes were gazing out beseechingly at him. Fakir wasn't blind and besides the uncertainty and apprehension, he could clearly see the hopefulness in this strange girl's eyes.

At long last he sighed. "All right, fine! …She can stay," he said with an air of unwilling defeat.

"It's settled then," Karon looked at the girl "You are welcome to stay with us for as long as you wish. But if you desire to return home someday, no one will stop you either. "

The girl's face lit up and she nodded enthusiastically. Karon seemed very pleased as well, but then he seemed to realize something and laughed "My, I must be getting old; all this time and I haven't asked you your name yet!" He thought about the problem for a moment, and then said, "Do you think you can try to write your name out for us?"

The girl considered this suggestion and gave a small nod. Soon paper, quill, and ink were placed before her. With the quill, her hand set to work with printing out the letters. After struggling a bit, she put the pen down and the word "Scheherazade" was written in a rather awkward but elegant hand on the paper.

"Sche-hera-zade," Karon slowly read the name aloud "is that how you say it?"

Scheherazade smiled at him.

"That's a very nice sounding name you have." Karon smiled back. "Well then, welcome to Kinkan, Scheherazade!"

End Note ---

Well, that's it for the first chapter. I hope I didn't make any character too OOC since I've only been in the fandom for a few months, and I had quite a bit of trouble with the dialogues and character POVs.

You might be wondering how is it that Scheherazade, someone who's Arabian/Oriental in origin, can understand the other character's language (which from what the series implies is German) but she can hardly write in German. Well, that has a lot to do with her upbringing but I can't say any more than that to avoid spoilers. Progress wise, I've got most parts of the story plotted out but there are still some major parts missing or in limbo. Currently I'm working on doing some more research to help fill up those gaps. Still, do tell me what you think. (smile)

P.S. I've edited this chapter after some readers have given me suggestions for improvements. Most notably I'd like to thank Tomoyo Ichijouji for all her proofreading work.


	2. Arabian Dance

_Second Night – "Arabian Dance"_

Fakir had always been an early riser (unlike Ahiru) and this morning was no exception. But to his surprise this particular morning, when he opened the door to the dining room to make breakfast, he found the girl who had followed him home standing in front of the stove, cooking. As he stood there, silently observing her, her strange sounding name came to mind. Scheherazade; that was the name she had given them, Fakir reflected. A totally foreign and unfamiliar name, but it was a name that for some reason also held an air of dignity and grace. Besides her name, this girl had plenty of other exotic attributes when she arrived at their doorstep, but many of them were now concealed after a change of clothes and hairstyle.

While spending the previous day getting her settled in the house, Karon had found some clothes Raetsel has left with them when she was younger and coincidentally fitted this mute girl perfectly. Now Scheherazade's black hair was tied into a long braid that trailed behind her back. The two longer tresses by her face were pulled loosely away, and the clip holding them back was hidden under a light blue handkerchief that served as a head scarf. The white short sleeve blouse and blue knee-length dress she wore over it gave her the look of a simple young woman, but her dazzling purple eyes betrayed the same majesty echoed in the sound of her name, a quality as unconcealable as the color of her skin.

While Fakir had been studying the girl, Karon walked into the room and was just as surprised as his son had been to see the girl working at the stove. "Oh! Good morning Scheherazade. What have we got here?" Karon looked at the food already set on the table. Something that resembled toast sat in the breadbasket; if the black squares were once bread, they were charred nearly beyond recognition. The ham didn't look any better and gave off a sharp burnt smell.

Scheherazade looked at Karon innocently and the old shopkeeper cleared his throat as he smiled weakly at the self-appointed chef. "I will take it from here, Scheherazade. Why don't you go help Fakir with Ahiru's breakfast instead?"

Scheherazade looked at him, a little confused but nodded with a small smile. Putting down the pan, she walked towards the doorway where Fakir stood. Her footsteps slowed as she came closer to the young man and she glanced at him tentatively.

The coy way that she looked at him made the corner of Fakir's lips curl in irritation. Without looking at her, he said, "You go ahead and wake Ahiru; I'll get her breakfast ready." With that he turned around and stalked away. Scheherazade watched him leave before turning her feet towards the stairs to wake her small feathery friend.

For two nights now, Ahiru had slept beside the shop's newest resident. As Scheherazade quietly opened the door to the room, she could see Ahiru sleeping with her head tucked into her feathers. A gentle smile appeared on Scheherazade's face as she sat down quietly beside the little duck.

Soon Ahiru began to stir. Her bright blue eyes fluttered open and she ruffled her feathers to something that imitated a human's stretch. When Ahiru saw Scheherazade sitting beside her, the little yellow duck gave her salutations with a small quack.

Scheherazade giggled and patted Ahiru's head as her way of greeting. Ahiru smiled to herself inside. _Even though Sheh-chan has been with us for only two days, it feels like we're good friends already!_ Ahiru thought happily to herself, using the nickname she had given her new roommate.

"Hey," Fakir's voice called from downstairs. "Breakfast is ready!"

Scheherazade looked down at Ahiru and offered her hand to the small avian. Ahiru took up the offer for a lift and waddled into Scheherazade's arms as they traveled down the stairs in amity.

* * *

After breakfast (prepared thankfully by Karon), Fakir got ready to depart for the lake. As the writer stood from his seat at the table, Karon said to him, "Fakir, do you think you can show her the town before you go to the lake? Since she can't speak to ask for directions I think it would be best if she became acquainted with the layout of the town in case she gets lost."

Fakir's face scowled, but he acquiesced, "All right, but you want me to walk her back to the shop afterwards?"

Karon looked at Scheherazade then back at Fakir. "Actually why don't you three go to the lake together afterwards. That will save you the extra trip. Are you interested in seeing the lake, Scheherazade?" he asked the girl.

Scheherazade nodded once firmly and Fakir sighed. Somehow he went from taking care of a duck to chaperoning a total stranger, all within the space of three days. Whatever happened to the peaceful, predictable days that had existed only four nights ago?

Despite Fakir's irritation, the three of them were soon on their way. The sky was clear and sun and the air were still warm despite what the numbers on the calendar indicated. The trees, their foliage still mostly green with hints of gold peeping out intermittently, swayed gently in the light morning breeze. The soft sound of rustling leaves however, were covered by the whispers that stirred wherever the trio walked as all eyes fell on the exotic stranger in their midst.

Scheherazade walked behind Fakir and Ahiru as they proceeded down the street. She kept her eyes looking down but every once in a while they would glance up. But when she did lift her eyes she saw people staring at her as they muttered comments amongst themselves.

This became especially clear when they passed by two older ladies sporting aprons and holding shopping baskets, who were talking rather too loudly to each other.

"Who is that girl? I have never seen her before. And what is she doing following Karon's boy around?"

"Don't know, but I saw her inside his shop yesterday. Maybe she's hired help or some such."

"But why would Karon need hired help? And look at her skin! I have never seen anyone with skin the color of cinnamon before."

"Well, she must be a foreigner then!"

"But that doesn't explain why she's here! What business would a foreigner have in our little town?"

The sound of the women's gossiping faded as the three of them walked away, but their influence was profound on Scheherazade. The shy young woman lowered her eyes again and this time rather than just gazing downward she seemed to pull herself in as if she was trying to reduce her presence. Her pace slowed so that she was drawing farther away from Fakir and Ahiru.

Her behavior did not go unnoticed by Fakir, who was looking back at her. Once they left the old chattering ladies completely behind, he said to her, "Ignore them." Hearing this, Scheherazade lifted her head a little and the tightness in her shoulders relaxed, but she continued to keep several paces back from him and Ahiru. But Ahiru stopped, and turned around to wait for Scheherazade. Scheherazade smiled at the little duck and her deep amethyst-colored eyes bespoke her appreciation. Likewise, Ahiru returned the smile with her clear blue eyes.

From that point on, Ahiru walked by Scheherazade's side. They passed by the cathedral, walked past the water mill, and crossed the bridge that spanned the river running through the town. Following the course of the river they came across a building set beyond a pair of tall, black iron gates. A shallow moat ran along the front of the building while the building's clock tower loomed above a wide arching entrance.

Scheherazade stopped by the gate and looked curiously down the corridor leading into the courtyard. Ahiru too stopped and gazed in the same general direction. Nostalgia softened the gaze of the little duck. _It's been a while since I've passed by here. Nothing seems to have changed…_

Indeed this was a place filled with many memories. When Fakir saw Scheherazade looking at the building, he explained, "That's Kinkan Academy, a school for the arts."

Scheherazade clasped her hands around the bars in the gate as she continued to look at the school. Then she shifted her eyes to Fakir and studied him.

"What?" Fakir said, annoyance slowly crawling back into his voice.

Scheherazade turned her eyes to the building, then back to Fakir again. Fakir grimaced. "Karon told you I used to attend school here, didn't he?"

At this Scheherazade nodded. But Fakir turned away briskly from the gate where she and Ahiru stood. "The school has nothing for me now; I have other things I need to do outside of this place."

Seeing Fakir taking off, Ahiru pushed away the wistful feelings and went to catch up to him and quacked to Scheherazade to follow. Scheherazade nodded and let go of the gate, but her gaze lingered for another moment on the towering building before moving on.

After walking around the school and out of the town through one of its ancient gates, before long the three of them had reached the lake. At this point the little group divided as Ahiru went towards the bank while Scheherazade went along with Fakir, headed towards the pier.

Once in the water, Ahiru swam toward the pier and waited patiently for Fakir, who took little time in setting up the fishing pole beside the chair he'd left on the pier. Ahiru quacked to him then and Fakir knew by routine now that this meant she was going to have a quick swim around the lake.

"Go ahead, Ahiru," Fakir nodded.

Ahiru quacked again in acknowledgement and swam off. Fakir went back to his task, and brushed off some stray leaves that had fallen on the chair during its short period of disuse. He then sat down and began to look over his manuscripts; the ink and quill were left untouched in the bag, just like the last time they were brought to the lake.

While Fakir fixed his attention on his writing, Scheherazade, who had been watching them carry out their daily routine, came up to the head of the pier and sat down next to him on the wooden platform. Fakir was startled for a second but she had been so quiet that he had forgotten she was there ever since they had reached the lake. For her part, Scheherazade was now gazing out across the lake, her eyes drifting from one place to another as she absorbed the details of her surroundings.

Seeing her behavior natural enough, Fakir turned his gaze away from her, but he couldn't get her out of his mind just yet. For one thing he didn't like the fact that he had forgotten about her presence. Having grown up trying to protect Mytho, Fakir had learned to be aware of the people around him, especially towards certain individuals like Rue who were constantly try to run off with Mytho behind his back. Granted he no longer had to be so vigilant, but the habit was still intact and it was slightly discomforting to find someone who had been able to slip beyond his awareness so easily.

Her silence, in both the verbal and especially in the physical sense, had also lead Fakir to notice that Scheherazade seemed to move with a sort of lightness in her step. It was hard to explain but when she walked or the way she sat down seem to embody a natural sense of fluidity, like a cat walking through the night, which enabled her to move without disturbing a soul. Fakir wasn't quite sure what it was but some part of him could sense it when he watched her move, and that he deduced was why he had a hard time keeping a tab on her presence.

However the thing that bothered Fakir the most as he thought about this further, was that small moment on the day they had met. That strange jolt that ran through his arm when he touched her hand: what had that been? He thought it might've been explained by something simple, that this was akin to the shock one felt when reaching for a doorknob after walking across a carpet. But he saw something in her eyes at that moment. There was a look of surprise, of fear, and the more he dwelled on it, the more he thought there was something that resembled hope.

At this point in his reveries, Fakir shook his head. _That's ridiculous! Why on earth would a total stranger look at me like that?_ He looked off to the side and to his surprise found Scheherazade looking at him with a faintly troubled expression. For a split second their eyes met, and then Fakir abruptly broke the contact and turned his face away.

When he glanced back briefly he saw Scheherazade had shifted her gaze away from him. Disquieted by that odd moment, Fakir closely studied the strange girl at his feet without setting his eyes on her. Scheherazade made no unusual movement however, and she now sat looking down. From the slightly frown on her eyebrows he thought she was thinking about something. _About what? About me?_

Fakir quickly dismissed the thought from his mind. _You're thinking too much, _he told himself.

Fakir's eyes drifted back to the girl. Still, he couldn't deny the suspicion that there was something about this girl, Scheherazade, something about all the small details he had noticed that made her a mystery. But how her secrets would affect them was completely unknown. Yet the feeling of not knowing what was going on around him brought to mind what it had been like to be trapped inside Drosselmeyer's story, of being shaped and used while being totally unaware of the strings controlling him. This feeling disgusted Fakir.

As his agitation intensified he noticed that Scheherazade was watching him again. Her face was turned only slightly, but though her glance was well concealed, once Fakir saw this he couldn't suppress his irritation any longer. All the frustration that her mysteries have generated finally caused the young man to loose what little patience he had left for her at that moment.

Pushing aside the questions in his mind, Fakir said to her tersely, "If you're so bored as to keep staring at me like that, you're welcome to go back."

Ahiru, who had no idea any of what had happened, finished her swim around the lake and came towards the pier just in time to hear Fakir's retort.

_Hey!_ "Quack!" she exclaimed angrily. _Why did you say that? Why are you always being so rude to people?_ "Quack, quack! Qua, qua, quack!"

Fakir gave the duck an exasperated look. "What are you yelling at me for?"

Ahiru pointed her wing toward Scheherazade then looked at Fakir accusingly. _You were being mean to her, that's why!_ "Qua, quack, quack!"

The writer made a sour face and said in an equally sour voice, "She's the one who kept staring at me. I'm not a painting, Ahiru; I don't enjoy being stared at all the time."

Not willing to take that as an excuse, Ahiru flapped her wings and managed to haul herself out of the water and onto the dry dock, and there continued her protests. _But you don't have to be so rude about it! You could've asked her nicely!_ "Quack, quack, quack! Qua, quack!"

At this point, Scheherazade, who had been watching the pair argue, stood up and walked back down the dock towards the shore. At first Ahiru thought she was leaving and waddled a few steps forward to chase after her. Instead of heading toward the main road however, Scheherazade made a left at the end of the dock and from there made her way towards a little grass clearing beside the dock.

Both Ahiru and Fakir then watched in silence as she came to the center of the clearing, stood there, and closed her eyes. She proceeded to point one foot towards the ground in front of her whilst her hands rose to stop at a pose above her head.

It took the duck and the writer a few seconds to realize what she was about to do. As Scheherazade lowered one hand to her waist, the feet she had positioned was moving to the side. And thus with practiced ease, she performed a dance neither of them had seen before.

Ahiru was amazed. The way Scheherazade's long braided hair trailed behind her, how her delicate hands traced through the air as she moved, the graceful steps she took as she turned and twirled made it seem as if she was moving to music only the lone dancer could hear. It was like watching a blossoming flower drifting in the breeze, moving gently and softly but full of natural grace. Even the heaviness that usually lingered in Scheherazade's eyes seemed to lift slightly as she absorbed herself in her dance.

Having once been a dancer himself, Fakir too, was impressed with the level of skill this girl displayed. Although her movements were rather more sinuous than the ballet movements he had seen other girls perform, they were nonetheless well practiced and flowed from her with inherent ease. Now Fakir could understand why she could move so silently. It was because she was a dancer. From what he could deduce, the deftness and grace of her dance was a part of her natural movement, thus allowing her to move with feline-like lightness even when she wasn't dancing.

However what Fakir noticed next was how intensely Ahiru was watching Scheherazade as the girl danced by the water's edge. If the lake was a mirror for Scheherazade's dance, then Ahiru's eyes were a mirror of her emotions.

Watching Scheherazade dance and seeing the school for the first time in weeks, Ahiru felt as if she had been taken back to the days at the Academy where she would watch the girls from the advance class perform their demos. Memories of Rue as she performed her arabesques and pirouettes brought a small smile to Ahiru's mind. But she couldn't actually smile as a duck, much less dance. It didn't seem like much had changed since the time when she used to watch Rue dance. She was still sitting on the sidelines while other people danced to their content. Only now her heels and toes have been replaced with webbed feet and a duck's feet were simply not meant for being en pointe. The last time she had danced at all was during the battle with the Raven. Whatever miracle (perhaps it had been simply a remnant of the diminishing magical effects the Story had on her) that had enabled her to dance then, did not occur again. For Ahiru - try as she might - simply did not have the capacity to dance any more in this body of hers.

But Scheherazade, although she had lost her voice, could still dance, and dance beautifully at that, because she's human. That thought made Ahiru's tiny heart ache, and it became painful to keep watching. Was she jealous of her new friend? Perhaps just a little at that moment, Ahiru admitted, but what would be the use of that? She was a duck and Scheherazade was a girl, and that was all there was to it.

Ahiru lowered her eyes slightly. She looked at the rippling reflection of herself in the water. Although she didn't notice it, tears were pooling at the bottom of her eyes. All this Fakir took in as he silently watched over the little duck by his side. When a drop of the tears spilled over Ahiru's long lashes, the faint ripple in the water did not go unnoticed by the former knight.

* * *

The way back to town under the setting sun was again a silent one. But this time, rather than walking with Ahiru, Fakir walked several paces in front of the duck and the girl.

Ahiru was walking beside Scheherazade, but now it was the little duck whose eyes were fixed on the ground. When she noticed the tilted shadow on the ground beside her shift, Ahiru looked up to Scheherazade. The girl's dark brows were pulled low and her lips were parted in an expression of worry. Seeing the concern her friend felt for her, Ahiru couldn't help but feel warm inside. _I'm okay, Sheh-chan. Don't worry about me._ "Qua, quack. Quack, quack," she responded.

Scheherazade smiled a little too but when her eyes turned to Fakir, the worried look returned again. Ahiru followed her gaze and she thought about how after Scheherazade had finished her dance, an odd atmosphere had descended upon the group. Fakir hadn't said a single word since and his face had reverted into that surly pokerfaced expression that hid whatever it was that he was thinking from the world. Ahiru knew that look well and she wondered as they traveled the well-trodden path what had upset Fakir.

_He's not still upset with Sheh-chan, is he? Really, why can't he be nicer to her?_ The little duck scuffed at the indignation she felt for her friend and looked up to Scheherazade. She quacked once to get Scheherazade's attention.

_Don't worry about Fakir, Sheh-chan. He might be mean and rude a lot of the time but he's actually a really nice person. It might take a little while but once you get to know each other better I'm sure you two can become friends._ Although Ahiru knew Scheherazade didn't understand her quacks, the girl smiled appreciatively at the encouragement.

Turning her violet eyes back to the young man ahead of her, Scheherazade's expression tightened a little and a determined look entered her eyes. Noting the change, Ahiru wondered what Scheherazade was thinking when, just like the other day, something by the road caught her attention again.

This time it wasn't a noise but Ahiru noticed that the leaves on a low leafy bush beside her were quivering slightly as if they'd been brushed apart. There was a small hole that had formed at the base of the bush in the undergrowth where the leaves had been disturbed. _Eh?_

Ahiru walked closer to the bush. Peeping into the hollow, it was pitch black inside, but there were no sign of the cause of the movement. _Hmm, maybe it was just the wind then…_ When she looked up from her investigation, to her exasperation both Fakir and Scheherazade were quite far up the road from her.

Not wanting to get left behind, Ahiru turned and hurried after them.In her rush, Ahiru did not see the pair of yellow eyes that slowly opened or the low hiss that followed from the dark interior of the bush. A red forked tongue flickered out, tasting the air: air that still contained a faint trace of Ahiru's scent.

End Note ---

I realize this is a relatively "slow" chapter in that there's little in terms of action, but the character development here is very important so please bear with me. (smiles) By the way, "Sheh-chan" (the nickname Ahiru gives Scheherazade) is based off the Japanese pronunciation of the word "Scheherazade", using the first two sounds of the word and the customary Japanese honorific given to one's close female friend. I would like to thank Tomoyo Ichijouji for coming up with the nickname as well as proofreading my work.


	3. Memories of a Fire Festival

_Third Night – "Memories of a Fire Festival"_

The sun rose and set in the sky over Kinkan and soon two weeks' time had passed since Scheherazade settled in the home of Karon and his adopted son Fakir. At first the sight of Scheherazade's exotic complexion and foreign sounding name had made her quite the focus of attention in this close-knit little community. But as her presence became well established in Kinkan, many of the townspeople gradually grew accustomed to seeing her about, and some had looked past the novelty of her physical features and had warmed up to this mute but gentle-natured girl.

Everyday now Scheherazade would follow Fakir and the little duck Ahiru to the lake outside the town, and the three of them would return together at sunset. Once in a while they would go together and do some grocery shopping for Karon. And it was on one such day, while they were buying apples from a friendly old lady who had taken a liking to Scheherazade that Fakir overheard the conversation two men were having nearby.

As the fruit stand lady insisted on giving an abashed Scheherazade one more apple than they had paid for, Fakir stood back, leaning against a corner of a nearby building, and watched from the side after having done the required talking. Ahiru was looking up from beside Scheherazade's feet, and from the brightness in the duck's eyes, Fakir thought she seemed quite happy that the girl was becoming accepted here in town.

Shifting his eyes away from the pair, he noticed two men chatting a little ways down the street, in front of the doorway to the building behind him. Though he didn't intend to pry, the topic of their conversation caught his attention.

"Say, haven't you noticed there are fewer birds around this year? I went hunting for wild game yesterday and all I got were two rabbits; I hardly saw any birds at all," said a man with a mustache and work-worn hands.

"I think you're right. I haven't seen much around either. But it might be that the birds are flying south early this year," replied the other man who wore a brown tweed cap.

The man with the mustache shook his head. "Maybe, but even the birds that usually don't fly south are gone too. I didn't even see a single finch or sparrow. Isn't that odd?"

At this the man wearing the cap frowned in puzzlement as well. "That is very odd. Perhaps it has something to do with the number of snakes around lately. While I was collecting firewood the other day I almost got bitten by one. It'd sure explain why there are fewer birds around."

His friend considered this for a moment. "Could be. Oh, speaking of snakes, a few days ago while Sophie was crossing the bridge on her way to do some errand for her mother and happened to look down at the water, she swore she saw a huge snake swimming past, just below the surface. Now, you know young Sophie is a good child and I don't believe she would fib like that. Whatever she saw really scared her. But from what she said, the snake would've been as thick as the leg of a grown man. Who's ever seen a snake that big? I thought maybe her imagination got the best of her, so I told her it must have been a shadow or a log drifting in the water. If I hadn't explained it to her that way I don't think she would ever go near that bridge again."

While the man with the tweed cap commented on young Sophie's encounter, Fakir turned his eyes away and saw that Scheherazade's spine had gone stiff. But the girl quickly shook off whatever bothered her. She turned around and walked alongside Ahiru, rejoining Fakir.

Fakir studied Scheherazade's face as she approached, and though she covered it with a small smile, the apprehension (or was it fear?) that had made her tense up still lingered in her eyes. Fakir's own eyes narrowed, but when Scheherazade lifted her eyes to look at him, he closed his eyes and turned his face away.

But as the three of them were about to leave for home, the two men saw them and the one who had told the story greeted Fakir and said good-naturedly, "Why if it isn't Fakir! Say, are you ready for the Fire Festival?"

Fakir stopped and looked at the men in surprise. "Fire Festival? It's time for the festival already?"

At his confused expression, both men laughed.

"Oh, and I thought young people would pay more attention to these kind of things!" The man with the cap looked over to his right at the town square. "Look, the festival pyre's just about complete and all the decorations around the square are almost done as well."

Sure enough, when Fakir turned his gaze to the town square, he saw the pyre and the people pilling stacks of firewood on it. The lamps around the square were decorated with wreaths, made of flowers, pine branches, and ribbons.

Seeing all the trimmings around her, Ahiru looked around in awe. _Wow, it really is time for the festival again! It's been so long since the last Fire Festival._

Ahiru reminisced as images of Mytho bubbled up from her mind. It was during last year's festival that she first saw the hint of a smile on Mytho's lips, the first sign that her goal to restore Mytho's heart was having a positive effect on the prince. She thought about how happy both Rue and Mytho were during the festival, dressed in their special festival costumes, dancing in the fading glow of the bonfire. Even though that moment of mutual affection between the two dancers was short lived, the little duck was heartened by her memories of the Fire Festival.

Gazing back at the town square, the brightly colored decorations and high spirits of the townspeople further piqued Ahiru's interest in the festival._ I didn't get to see it last year since I had been looking for Mytho, but from the looks of it, the festival must be a lot of fun! Maybe I can get Fakir to have a look tonight and take me along. _

While Ahiru was thinking about the festival, the man with the mustache grinned teasingly at Fakir. "So, Fakir, will you be bringing this lovely young lady as your dance partner to the festival?" he nodded his chin at Scheherazade who blushed faintly at the remark.

Fakir's reaction was much less amused. The corner of his mouth twitched and he said curtly, "I no longer dance."

Hearing this, the men appeared startled. They looked at each other, and below them, their conversation had caught Ahiru's attention. Her sapphire blue eyes frowned, the enthusiasm from thinking about the festival now extinguished as one of the men asked, "But you used to love to dance."

"That's all in the past now. I have other things to do." Fakir turned his back to them and said evenly, "If you'll excuse us, we need to be going."

The men returned the farewell and the trio walked away. Ahiru glanced up at Fakir as she waddled by Scheherazade's side. From her vantage point she couldn't see Fakir's face, but seeing the briskness of his footsteps, she thought he seemed upset.

Ahiru lowered her feathered head and a sudden feeling of guilt nipped at her. After the town had been set free, Fakir never talked to her about their time acting as characters from_The Prince and The Raven_. She'd thought it was because he wanted to leave that rather painful experience behind them and thus wouldn't talk about it. But however harsh some of the things each of them went through were, not everything that happened while inside the story was bad. For Ahiru, she had made lots of friends, learned ballet, and above all met Mytho, Rue, and Fakir.

Ahiru thought Fakir must have had experiences he treasured and things he enjoyed while living with Mytho and going to the Academy. She was sure dancing was one of the things he enjoyed, or even cherished. While she had still been a girl, Ahiru remembers watching the advance class and she could see the fervor in his movements. It was as if he was setting himself free, letting his body communicate the frustration, determination, and passion he usually held under tight control and rarely communicated in words.

But in order to stay by her side as he had promised, he had quit the Academy and gave up on the one thing that set his heart free. _Maybe that's why he hasn't written anything in so long…perhaps there's something bothering him that he can't express in words._ Ahiru turned her eyes back to the brick road under her webbed feet. Her guilt grew and it pressed against her chest.

Her beak drooped. _…I shouldn't ask Fakir to take me to see the festival. Wanting to go see the festival…that's being selfish isn't it?_ _It might bring back painful memories for him._ The sorrow on Ahiru's face deepened. _I've already caused him so much trouble…_

* * *

The rest of the day past by quietly. After dinner, Karon turned to Scheherazade who was finishing up wiping down the table. "After you're done, Scheherazade, why don't you go see the Fire Festival? It's one of the largest festivals we have in Kinkan every year."

Scheherazade's violet eyes sparkled with interest but she made no gesture either way. Seeing her ambivalence Karon called out to Fakir who had just left the room and was making his way upstairs. "Fakir, why don't you go with her?"

Fakir stopped and grimaced. After being teased by those men in the morning, the Fire Festival was not high on the list of places Fakir wanted to be. "I'm not interested," he answered.

"Fakir-" Karon began to reprimand but he stopped when Scheherazade touched his arm and shook her head. She gave him a reassuring look, as if saying that it was all right.

Karon smiled apologetically at the girl. "Are you sure? You can still go if you want, just be careful and come back before it gets too late."

Scheherazade shook her head again at his kind offer. Still she looked past the doorway to the staircase. As he noted her gaze, the old shopkeeper gave a deep sigh. "It's really a pity…I had hoped having him go to the festival would do him some good. He's always been rather reserved ever since…well, since his parents died. But recently it seems he's becoming more closed off than usual. I just wish he could understand that it's not good for him and that he can't go on like this."

Beside him, Scheherazade's brows furrowed. Her folded hands clasped together more tightly but it was impossible to tell whether she was reacting to Karon's words or fretting about some other problem.

* * *

Upstairs Fakir opened the door to the room Scheherazade and Ahiru now occupied, intending to retrieve a book and read something to get his mind off his troubles. But when the door opened, he saw Ahiru sitting on the window-side desk. The lamp remained unlit so there was no light save for what was reaching the room from the streets. Yet Ahiru's light colored plumage stood out clearly from the darkness of the room. She was looking towards the town square, where the bonfire emitted a slight reddish haze into the night sky.

It was then that Fakir realized that Ahiru might have wanted to go to the festival. Her eyes were looking so intently in the direction of the town square that she hadn't even noticed him coming into the room. After watching Ahiru for a moment from the doorway, Fakir walked in. "You wanted to go to the Fire Festival don't you, Ahiru?"

Ahiru jumped up. _Eh?!_

Fakir's voice took Ahiru so completely by surprise that she shot up, whipped around and tottered too much to the side, causing her to almost fall off the table.

After she scrambled to regain her balance, she shook her head, flapping her wings franticly.

"Quack, quack, quack!!" _No, of course not!! I-I was just looking outside because-because I was looking at the stars! That's right! Just looking at the stars!_ "Qua-qua quack, quack, quack!"

Even though he couldn't understand a single word she said, Fakir could distinctly picture the human Ahiru stammering on, waving her arms around wildly as she tried to come up with some silly, random excuse. That amusing image brought a small smile to Fakir's lips. He certainly could imagine her as a human in these kinds of circumstances.

But she wasn't human. Even if she went to the festival all she could do was watch. Fakir's smile vanished as his gaze shifted towards the window. His bangs covered his eyes and the faint light from the streets cast shadows over his face.

After a moment of silence he said, "Ahiru…Do you ever think about the way things used to be?" Hearing Fakir speak, Ahiru stopped and stared at him. Still absorbed in his thoughts, he continued, "The way you were a year ago; the life you had then-" Fakir trailed off in mid-sentence as he became aware of what he was saying.

He turned his face away while Ahiru looked at him, surprised and confused. "Quack?" Ahiru asked, but Fakir's only reply was a swift, "No-it's nothing," as he hid his face in the darkness of the room.

But Ahiru's eyes did not stray from the figure of her companion. _Was Fakir trying to ask me…if I missed being a girl?_ Then she shook her head and her body seemed to deflate slightly as she solemn. _No, don't be silly. This is the way things are supposed to be, right?_

Her sad eyes slid back to the glow from the Fire Festival. _This is the way things are…_

Silence descended once again as the two of them stood side by side next to the window. Standing just beyond the room's partially closed door was Scheherazade. She looked away from the gap in the doorway and after a moment of intense consideration, nodded once to herself.

* * *

The night progressed and the grandfather clock in the shop struck three. Upstairs, Ahiru was woken from her quiet slumber by a faint rustle in the room. As her eyes opened drowsily, it took Ahiru a moment for her to blink the sleep from her eyes and see that the bed was empty.

Ahiru shook off the blanket that was covering her and waddled to the edge of the bed to survey the dim room. At first Ahiru thought Scheherazade might have gone to use the washroom but when she looked at the cubby where the girl's old clothes were stored, she saw that they were gone, as was the cloak she wore.

_Sheh-chan? Where did she go?_ Worry was beginning to settle in and Ahiru flew the short distance from the bed to the table top. Nudging the curtains aside, she saw a figure with long wavy black hair hurrying down the street. Ahiru instantly recognized the cloaked figure as her friend and watched as the girl turn a corner some distance down the street. W_here is she going? Is she leaving? But why wouldn't she have mentioned anything to us?_

Pushing the questions aside, Ahiru immediately decided what she was going to do. She flapped her wings to get herself back down to the floor. The door had been closed loosely and Ahiru managed to nudge it open before toddling down the stairs as fast as she could.

Meanwhile in the storage room adjacent to the bedroom, Fakir laid on his bed, staring aimlessly up at the dark ceiling. In the darkness, the cold moonlight coming in through the tiny window behind the bed made Fakir's eyes glow like dark gems. But a deep-set frown offset the shine in the young man's eyes. Memories of words he had spoken to Ahiru earlier were still playing in his mind.

_Ahiru…Do you ever think about the way things used to be? The way you were a year ago; the life you had then- _

As those words repeated themselves yet again in his mind, Fakir shut his eyes and abruptly pushed himself off his bed.

"What the hell was I thinking?" He heaved a frustrated sigh. This was how it ought to be and how it should remain. After all they went through – after all the things Ahiru went through – to return things to their proper place, why did he say these thoughts to her?

His mind responded to the question by producing another memory, this one from a few days ago when Ahiru saw Scheherazade dancing beside the lake. She had cried then, and he saw it, even if she herself wasn't aware of it. To watch someone else dance and do the one thing she wanted to do the most in the world but could not - the pain in her heart simply could not have been contained and it had spilt out through her tears.

Fakir gritted his teeth. This wasn't fair! Why was she still hurting? The story was over and they were free.

Yes, free, but not happy, whispered a pessimistic little voice in him. Would she be happy if she were human again? With a few strokes of his pen she would be able to dance again, and he would no longer be torn by the guilt of her tears.

The shaky memories of a room scattered with crow feathers and the cold, motionless bodies laying amongst them made Fakir snap open his eyes. Using his power meant risking the lives of the people he wrote about. And here was Ahiru, a defenseless little duck. What chance would she have against his unpredictable Spinner powers?

The answer was quite obvious and the thought of it sickened Fakir.

"Damn it!" Fakir cursed silently. As his troubled thoughts chafed away at him, the moonlight caught his eyes and he looked out the window. A dot of yellow crossed his vision and the nagging thoughts abated when Fakir realized what he saw.

"Ahiru?" He squinted his eyes, at first doubtful of what he thought he saw, but there was no mistake. The tiny avian was waddling as fast as she could but Fakir couldn't figure out where she was going in such a rush. He tore his gaze from the window and grabbed his clothes.

_That idiot! What is she doing this time?_ He wrapped his cloak around him and rushed out of the storage room. His hurried footsteps halted for a moment when he looked into his former bedroom and saw it was empty.

A sinking feeling suddenly came over him and Fakir grimaced as he continued his pursuit, trying not to wake Karon as he left the house.

* * *

After scurrying across a few more streets, Ahiru had lost sight of Scheherazade and stood panting in the middle of an empty avenue. Ahead of her was a fork in the street and there was no indication of which way the girl could've gone. _Oh no, I lost her! _

Panicked, Ahiru glanced back and forth between the two paths. To the left at the end of the street there was a reddish glow reflecting off the walls of the buildings, while the street to the right was dark. Since she had to pick one way or the other, she decided she might as well just go with the one on the left. Without giving time to doubt herself, Ahiru turned to the left and waddled on.

Fakir came onto the street shortly after Ahiru had started down her chosen path. She was too far away for him to call out to her without waking everyone on the street. But when Fakir noticed the direction the duck was headed, he paused for a moment before following her. _She's going towards the town square…but the festival would be over by now. There probably won't be anyone there at this hour._

The soft plapping sound of Ahiru's webbed feet against the stone path stopped when she reached the end of the street. Standing in the shadow of the building beside her, Ahiru was surprised to find herself back in the town square, but what she saw next surprised her even more.

In the middle of the now-abandoned town square was the bonfire that was the center of the festival. The fire had died down but what remained of it continued to burn brightly. Scheherazade was there, dressed in the clothes of her native land, her eyes closed and dancing a light and airy dance in front of the bonfire. In the light of the fire, her long black hair shimmered and her clothes gleamed like fresh silk. The dreamy ambiance around the square was entrancing; the moon overhead was a spotlight and the empty plaza was a stage glowing underneath it.

It was a strange yet beautiful sight to behold, but what captured Ahiru's attention was that besides the crackling of the flame, the sound of a voice could also be heard, a voice that belonged to Scheherazade. Despite her shock, Ahiru found herself drawn to this beautiful musical voice. She walked out of the shadows and towards Scheherazade, her blue eyes filled with mystification and wonder.

Behind her, Fakir finally managed to catch up. But as he came up behind Ahiru, he too heard Scheherazade's voice, a voice he thought she did not possess. Alarmed but amazed by what he witnessed, the textures and tones of Scheherazade's voice permeated his mind and he stood there, mesmerized.

As both duck and former knight were enchanted by her voice and dance, Scheherazade, with her eyes still closed, paused and shifted into a pose. She stood in profile towards them and they watched as her hands rose to her chest, and as she laid them over her heart her melodious voice fell silent.

As the last word faded into the air, Ahiru felt a sudden surge of warmth. It quickly spread throughout every part of her and Ahiru's eyes opened wide as it overwhelmed her senses. A golden light enveloped the little duck, its brilliance surpassing that of the bonfire.

Fakir finally snapped out of his daze and as the light swallowed Ahiru, he suddenly felt the cold fingers of something unpleasantly familiar grasping at him. "Ahiru!" he cried, and dashed towards her.

The sound of Fakir's voice abruptly broke Scheherazade's concentration as she gasped in surprise at having been discovered. But that shock was replaced by that of the appearance of the egg-shaped capsule of light around the little duck.

Concealed inside the cocoon of light Ahiru knew nothing of her friends' reactions. As the warmth continued to flow through her, she saw a pale oval pendant materialize in front of her and moved to hover before her chest. At that point the light around her intensified so strongly that Ahiru had to shut her eyes.

Only when her eyes no longer felt the flare of the light from behind her eyelids did she open them again. The warmth that had overwhelmed her had faded and Ahiru blinked.

Not knowing what had happened, a confused Ahiru looked around, "Wha-what happened? I-"

Ahiru stopped when she heard her own, very human voice. She brought her wings up to look at them, unwilling to believe what she thought had happened. But there were no wings, only hands, arms, and fingers.

"I'm…I'm-" Ahiru's breath caught as she continued to staring down at her hands.

Behind Ahiru, Fakir stopped dead in his tracks once the light had faded and revealed a figure he thought he'd never see again. He wanted to say something but words could not form at the tip of his tongue. And though he was not aware of it, at some peripheral level of his consciousness, he heard the sounds of gears beginning to click to life.

Endnote --

Once again I have to thank Tomoyo Ichijouji for being such a great beta reader and I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter!


	4. The Wandering Storyteller's Tale

_Fourth Night – "The Wandering Storyteller's Tale"_

_She's human again…!_

When the realization of what had just happened finally sunk in, Fakir gasped sharply, not realizing he had been holding his breath all this time. Hearing him, Ahiru looked back at the boy standing behind her.

"Fakir?" Ahiru blinked in surprise. "What are you doing here-?"

When Fakir saw Ahiru turning her body towards him, his face started to flush. He turned away as fast as he could, his astonished mien suddenly replaced by an expression that was uncharacteristically uncomfortable.

It took a few seconds before Ahiru was able to comprehend the reason for his sudden reaction and realize that she was standing stark naked in the middle of the town square.

"Eek!!!"

Ahiru crouched down and pulled her arms around herself in a vain effort for modesty. There was no handy pond to hide her this time. Ahiru, whose face was now bright red, squeezed her eyes shut tightly, and did not hear the footsteps approaching her.

A soft swoosh glided past her ears, and Ahiru felt soft wool against the skin of her back. She opened her eyes meekly and saw that Fakir's cloak had been draped over her. Fakir stood beside her, his gaze still turned firmly away from her.

Thankful for the cover, the red haired girl stood up tentatively on her newly restored human feet and pulled the cloak tightly around herself. Feeling a little less embarrassed but still vastly confused, she looked at Fakir whose gaze shifted from her to the person who had led them into this situation.

Scheherazade shied away from them. Without the moonlight her quivering eyes were an inky violet, and Ahiru thought her tall, slim body was shaking as well.

"Sheh-chan…" Ahiru started walking towards Scheherazade, but Fakir stepped in front of her, his left hand outstretched to block her way. Ahiru was about to object, but when she saw the obdurate expression on Fakir's face she did not take another step. Instead her bewildered blue eyes focused on the girl she had come to think of as a friend.

Fakir too, fixed his eyes on Scheherazade, but unlike Ahiru, his were far from friendly.

"You've been lying to us all along," he accused coldly.

Scheherazade made no response except to shift her eyes away from them as a pained expression further clouded her face.

"Why are you doing this? What are you after?" Fakir demanded, his voice flaring at the end of each question.

Scheherazade did not answer him. The crackling of the fire was all that could be heard as sparkles from the dying blaze drift up and vanished into the cool night air.

As the silence drew on, the corner of Fakir's mouth tightened and he asked again, louder this time, "I asked you, why are you doing this?" He took a step towards Scheherazade, "You made us think you were mute but you had been deceiving us this whole time! And now that you've done something to Ahiru, I-"

"Fakir, stop it!" Ahiru abruptly interrupted him, pleading on Scheherazade's behalf. "Maybe she can't answer you because she can't speak our language!"

Fakir snapped around and glared incredulously at her. "We have no idea what exactly she just did to you! And the fact stands that she had been lying to us!" he shouted back at her. "How could you blindly make excuses for her like this?"

"I…!" Ahiru faltered.

"No!" A third voice suddenly interceded and snapped their attention back to Scheherazade.

"Please, I-!" Before Scheherazade could speak any further, she clasped her hands tightly over her mouth.

Fakir's eyes narrowed. "So you _can_ speak our language. Then answer my question: why? What is your reason for doing this?"

Scheherazade again did not answer. Just as Fakir's patience was about to come to its limits, to both Fakir and Ahiru's surprise, Scheherazade moved towards them. She stopped in front of Fakir and to the added astonishment of the other two, Scheherazade moved her feet into fourth position as her arms rose to fifth position above her head. She weaved her hands and as she lowered her arms, extended one hand towards them.

This was the mime for dance; Ahiru looked up at Fakir and saw her own surprised expression mirrored on his face. It seemed that Scheherazade was ready to give them an answer, but using dance to communicate instead. But Fakir found it hard to believe that this girl was capable of explaining herself through just movements and gestures. In ballet the audience would already know the story; a mime was simply used to indicate to the audience which scene was taking place.

_But for her to give her answer like this…_Fakir had his doubts and made no move to accept or deny the request.

Noting Fakir's hesitance, Scheherazade clasped her hands together. _Please_, she beseeched wordlessly, meeting Fakir's gaze. Next, she used one hand to touch her ear and then her throat, and finally spread that hand forward. _Listen to what I have to say; let me explain_.

Fakir heard a muffled rustle behind him. When he glanced back he found Ahiru standing next to him. "Sheh-chan's willing to tell us why, and if she feels better explaining like this, then let's try to listen to her," Ahiru said sympathetically.

Fakir still had his reservations but seeing the earnestness and trust Ahiru had for this stranger, at last, he grudgingly looked back to Scheherazade and nodded.

Scheherazade acknowledged this by offering them a small thankful smile and bowed her head. The clouds above uncovered the egg-shell white moon, and pale moonlight once again illuminated the mute girl as she danced to the beat of a silent tune.

Her audience watched quietly and intently. As she began to unfurl her story, Scheherazade held out her hand in a yearning manner towards the still dark eastern horizon. A_ country in the East_, her body said. She twirled once in a circle and the loose fabric of her clothes rippled around her. Cupping her hands in the gesture for wealth, she then brought them to her chest and gently touched her heart.

_A large country, rich and vibrant; a place dear to me_, Scheherazade folded her hands over her chest.

As Ahiru watched images began to form in her mind. They were cloudy images, rough sketches born from her mind as it tried to imagine what Scheherazade was telling them. Ahiru envisioned a vast kingdom with a gigantic palace in a flourishing capital. Silhouettes of people waltzed by, peacefully going about their daily lives. With the mental images established, sentences began to form, and in Ahiru's heart she found that she was able to understand Scheherazade's silent narrative.

_Born wealthy and powerful, with no wants or needs_,recounted the dancer's elegant movements. M_y life was perfect, content. There was nothing more I could ask for…until the day I met that person._

At this time, Scheherazade touched the gold necklace she wore, and Ahiru for the first time noticed how intricate and beautiful the object was. The intricate pattern of a flower adorned the small round medallion centered on the chain. Four delicate gold ball dangles were on either side of the medallion. It was a small, inconspicuous piece of jewelry and was normally covered by the borrowed clothes Scheherazade wore. But now this delicate little necklace became the center piece of Scheherazade's narrative.

_He was the king. Tall, handsome, and wise. I love him from the bottom of my heart._ At this point Scheherazade brought her hands together for the familiar mime of love.

But the gesture for love was followed by Scheherazade's finger tips trailing down her cheeks, with a meaning that could only signify sorrow and of tears shed. _However, he had no feelings for me. Not to be with him, not to marry him; it was unbearable. _Scheherazade touched her finger tips to her lips and brought the hand forward as if words were coming from her mouth. _So I told a story…_

_A king dreamed of a fairy with purple eyes. He fell deeply in love with her, and longed for her, the one with purple eyes. One day a girl with purple eyes appeared so the king married her. _Scheherazade closed her eyes in a pause, before opening them to resume her tale._ The king and I married, like in the story. I was so happy; believing he surely loved me now. _

This silent narrative elicited a reaction from both Ahiru and Fakir, though their reactions were quite different from each other. Fakir's grimace deepened while Ahiru could not conceal her startled gasp.

_Sheh-chan is a Spinner…just like Fakir…_Ahiru's eyes widened at the implications. _Then that means there are more Spinners out there, people like Drosselmeyer-san who can turn stories into reality._ Ahiru wasn't sure what to think for a moment. Was this a good thing? Was it bad? She couldn't decide. Ahiru looked back at Fakir, then to Scheherazade. _What does this all mean?_ The bewildered red head furrowed her thin brows as Scheherazade continued her dance.

By now the dark haired girl's movements had grown sharper, more mournful, for each gesture now led the dancer through a recollection of painful memories.

_But he loved the girl with purple eyes, not me. I grew worried. I did not want to lose his love, so I told another tale but he still did not love me. I told one story after another, but it was useless. Instead, disasters came. Home lost to chaos. My husband no longer recognizes me. _

Scheherazade stretched her long legs in a split against the cold stones of the ground; she bent down low and her hand touched the ground lightly as if in resignation.

_With no choice, I fled. Giving up my voice; fearful of my power. I searched for one to help me, for one who is like me. He would be my savior, and I have finally found him; I've found you. _

Scheherazade raised her head slowly and looked deeply into Fakir's eyes. Fakir's stern expression faltered into a look of disbelief. He asked in a hushed whisper, "You knew that I'm a Spinner."

Scheherazade confirmed this with a faint nod.

Taken aback, Ahiru stepped closer to Scheherazade. "But how? And why did you turn me back into a girl?" A thought came to her as she recalled a crack in the door to Fakir's room earlier. "Sheh-chan…had you heard Fakir talking to me this evening?" Ahiru asked slowly.

Again, Scheherazade nodded. Knowing what they must think of her, Scheherazade tried to explain the cause for her actions.

To Fakir, she explained carefully through her mime, _I felt something from you. I watched you closely. Your stories; I realized you were like me. But you were unhappy and did not like me. Did not know reason for sadness. Until I heard you tonight. _

Scheherazade now looked to Ahiru._ If Ahiru were happy, then you were happy. Then you would help me…_

Something glinted by the side of Scheherazade's cheeks, and both Ahiru and Fakir realized belatedly that they were tears. Scheherazade knelt down before them, contrite, and with her arms folded across her chest.

_I'm sorry for my selfishness,_ Scheherazade raised her violet eyes and looked earnestly at Ahiru. _I should not have betrayed your trust_, _but this is my only hope._ She bowed her head low and brought her hands tightly to her chest.

_Please, forgive me, please…help me. I beg of you._

There was another period of silence that followed this revelation. In the dying flames and the glow of the street lamps afforded to them, Fakir saw the highlighted furrows created from Scheherazade's brows, and the sorrow in the grooves of her eyes. Inside he wavered.

The story Scheherazade has just recounted reminded Fakir of the folly to possessing a Spinner's power. As a boy he himself had spun a story without thinking of the consequences it would bring and had paid dearly for it. If given a chance he would do whatever it took to undo his actions. In a way, Scheherazade resembled him in her circumstances. She had used her powers carelessly and now regrets having ever spoken a single word. Having searched far and wide, she had finally found a glimmer of hope to bring an end to the nightmares she brought onto herself, and he could give that hope to her.

But as soon as such thoughts entered into Fakir's conscious, the rational part of his mind reacted against it. Empathy or not, this girl was still a Spinner. Moreover, she had heedlessly and selfishly used her powers on Ahiru to turn her back into a girl.

Fakir clinched his hands into fists. No matter how sympathetic he felt towards her, the dangers of a Spinner powers would not allow him to harbor such feelings as anything more than a fleeting sentiment.

"No."

Stunned by the implacable answer that came from her male companion, Ahiru turned her intense blue gaze onto the young writer, unable to believe the answer he had just gave. Scheherazade too, stared in shock at Fakir. Her lower lip quivered ever so slightly, while her eyes remained fastened on the young man as if entreating him what he meant by that one word.

Starting solemnly at the grayish stones beneath their feet, Fakir began speaking in a hushed voice, as if his words were to himself. "Not too long ago this town and everybody in it were under the control of a dead story teller. None of us was any the wiser about it, and we lived life according to the dead man's wishes. Everything was staged and directed at the whims of someone who took delight in hopelessness and tragedy."

Scenes and stilled frames of past events were recalled in Fakir's mind: A blackened sky looming over the town like an abominable eclipse, a defenseless little duck being tossed like a rag doll between the sharp beaks of crow-people who were once her friends, and his own hand betraying the one person who'd stood by him and trusted him long before he began trusting her. An invisible hand seemed to tighten around his heart at those memories and Fakir's eyes grew dark at the sharp twinge he felt inside his chest.

"We wanted to be free of that control, to return things to the way they're supposed to be and live freely. But it was Ahiru especially, who risked and sacrificing everything she had, that ended the story which could've gone on forever," Fakir's voice rose steadily. "She returned destiny back to the hands of their owner, and filled people's hearts with hope for a bright future. Through all this, we both came to terms with who we are, what we are."

Beside him, a startled Ahiru blinked at Fakir's mention of her. Fakir could feel the red haired girl's presence as she looked at him with a mix of surprise and apprehension. To the former knight however, a part of him was only concerned with the fact that the presence he felt was no longer that of a duck, but a human girl. That part of him, which he himself couldn't explain or fathom, felt an inexplicable feeling of relief and contentment at that knowledge.

But at what cost? Pain, suffering, and sadness; Fakir decided long ago that Ahiru had been through enough of that during her time in Drosselmeyer's tale. He was not going to let her risk experiencing those things again. But now Ahiru had unknowingly been pulled into the web of tales of a foolish woman who did it for her own end. This wasn't the fate Fakir had sought for her. This wasn't right.

_Drosselmeyer, just like Drosselmeyer_, Fakir realized, the name inciting feelings of loathing and rage in his heart. Scheherazade had came in and tampered with the life of someone close to him. In his mind he staunchly refused to help her, this person with so little regard to the lives of others!

"And now you, a person who understands nothing, come in and try to manipulate me - manipulate her - for your own end," Fakir shouted, the passion in his thoughts reflecting onto his words. "You repaid her friendship and kindness by getting her entangled into your stories, which you yourself acknowledged was what's responsible for your problems in the first place! You-!"

Fakir's heated voice came to a sudden stop when he felt an unexpected tug on his arm. He turned his head around sharply towards the source of the touch and saw Ahiru looking at him with deep grief in her eyes. Any more biting words Fakir might've had for Scheherazade stopped at the edge of his tongue and he forced himself to swallow them.

Fakir glowered at Scheherazade, and said more quietly now, "…I don't know what exactly you've done to Ahiru, or what type of danger might follow by her becoming involved with you and your story, but I will not let her get any more involved than she has so far. I've seen enough to know that stories that come alive are dangerous, and someone living in a story is put at great risk. Two out-of-control Spinners are even more dangerous than one…which is why I am telling you right now I refuse to help you."

On the edge of Fakir's last word, Scheherazade's legs collapsed under her. She knelt limply on the ground; her shoulders hunched forward, her violet eyes dulled as they gazed aimlessly at the ground. A single tear trickled down a moist trail that had lingered on her cheek.

Watching her, Fakir's hardened expression remained resolute and unflinching. Beside him, Ahiru paused before she slowly let go of Fakir's sleeve. From Scheherazade's sullen form to Fakir's grim appearance, Ahiru frowned.

Despite feeling bad for Scheherazade, Ahiru also realized that Fakir did this to protect her. His protectiveness of her had not always been so obvious, but when Ahiru looked back on it, since she started to get to know him Fakir had always been trying to keep her from harm. He had stopped the man on the road from kicking her, and long before that had remained silent despite the news of Mytho's heart shard being dyed in the Raven's blood, knowing it would unsettle and upset her. But more so than his protectiveness and concern towards her, was the acknowledgement from Fakir that he admired and appreciated her part in ending the story. Despite the cold and how worried and upset she was about the issue surrounding Scheherazade, Ahiru couldn't help but feel warm inside her chest, and she unconsciously pulled Fakir's cloak tighter around herself.

However, Scheherazade's plight still rested heavily on Ahiru's mind, and she knew Fakir's concern for her could very well shatter the older girl's last hopes. It's true that Scheherazade had kept many things from them, and although Ahiru admits she was disappointed that her friend had not been completely truthful and open with them, she also understands that Scheherazade had no real choice. Through it all, Ahiru decided she still wanted to help her friend..

_Even if Fakir is unwilling, there might still be some other way to help Sheh-chan. _Ahiru wasn't going to let Scheherazade lose all hope. _There just has to be another way, without having to resort to using anyone's Spinner power; it was just a matter of figuring out how!_

But no matter how determined she was about helping Scheherazade, there was still the issue about her being a girl again that had to be dealt with. Ahiru looked down at the pendent around her neck. It looked just like the pendent she had before in terms of shape and size. Only the color was different. This gem was crystal clear instead of crimson red, but otherwise Ahiru could detect no other notable dissimilarities. Touching the pendent, it felt cool against her finger tips and Ahiru wondered what this meant for her. If Scheherazade had returned her to the way she was a year ago, was she both a girl and a duck now? Or has she really become a girl? Or maybe she could even…

At this point Ahiru shook her head hard as her mind was beginning to take off with all sorts of questions and speculations. So many things had happened that night that it was starting to make Ahiru's head hurt. By now even the fire had quieted and only glowing embers remain. With only the sparse lights from the street lamps and the glowing moon falling towards the west, a stray breeze brushed past the skin on Ahiru's body uncovered by the cloak.

Cringing and shivering at the cold, Ahiru knew she had to say something. Fakir and Scheherazade had reached an impasse. Neither of them looked at each other. The loose fabric of Scheherazade's trousers lay draped on her legs; her bowed head almost touched her chest, as if she did not have the energy to ever look up again. Tears were no longer falling from Scheherazade's eyes but in them there was again that emptiness that Ahiru had seen when they'd first met.

Ahiru felt sorry for her friend, knowing how devastating Fakir's words must've been for her. And at the same time, Ahiru couldn't feel angry towards Fakir either, since he wasn't acting out of callousness, but of his desire to protect those he cared about. She realized the whole situation was related to her in one way or another. Because of this, she now felt it was her responsibility to break the ice that had been forming over their group. With that in mind, Ahiru turned her face to Fakir, who was wearing his brooding expression again, one that reminded Ahiru of the days when he still thought of himself as Mytho's knight. Seeing Fakir like that, Ahiru hesitated.

"Fakir…" she said quietly and the darkness hooding Fakir's eyes relinquished its hold somewhat when he turned to look at her.

Gathering her scattered confidence, Ahiru continued; "I was thinking…maybe we can decide what to do after we figure out what's going on with me being back as a girl first. We'll need Sheh-chan's help to know what exactly happened to me. So…let's at least let her stay with us still, for now."

Fakir said nothing, only shifting his eyes from Ahiru to Scheherazade, who did not seem to care anymore about what was happening around her, and did not move from where she sat. Ahiru felt her heart beat rapidly as she waited for Fakir's reply. She was afraid now that since Fakir had refused to help Scheherazade, he might also force her to leave Kinkan. At least if she continued to stay with them Ahiru could try to convince Fakir to change his mind, or find an alternative way to help her friend. But if Scheherazade were forced to leave then not only would she be homeless and helpless again, but Scheherazade would lose the last thin thread of hope the desperate traveler had found after so long.

After looking at Scheherazade for a long minute, Fakir at long last said with heavy reluctance in his voice, "Fine then."

At this Scheherazade lifted her head lowly and looked uncertainly at Fakir.

Ahiru sighed audibly in relief, but Fakir warned Scheherazade sternly, "However, I will only allow you to stay on one condition: that you will not tell any more tales while you are in this town, especially not another word about Ahiru. Do you understand?"

Scheherazade nodded once, and though her expression was still grim, the hopelessness in her eyes had assuaged. Ahiru walked up to Scheherazade and smiled gently at the dark haired girl. "Sheh-chan, even though you kept secrets from me, and told a story about me without asking me, I'm not mad at you. Because you see, friends don't hold grudges against each other." Ahiru extended a hand towards Scheherazade, and in a voice both sincere and pure, said, "I hope you still want to be my friend, because I sure still want to be your friend."

Looking into Ahiru's smile and her earnest blue eyes, Scheherazade demurred, her purple eyes avoiding Ahiru's. But slowly she raised one slender hand and after another brief moment of hesitation, took Ahiru's hand and clasped it tightly.

The last glow of the bonfire died away as the embers cooled and the bright moon light that had been shinning down on the three figures faded, taking the strange aura surrounding the town square along with it. The lonely square was covered only by the hazy fog of an early fall morning. Somewhere in the distance the town's clock tower tolled. It was only then that the three became aware of their surroundings again.

Looking up at the sky where the barest hint of first light could be seen on the horizon, Fakir said, "It's almost dawn; Karon will be getting up soon. We need to get back before he finds all of us missing."

Ahiru nodded, but what she realized next caused her to stutter, "But what about me? I-I can't let Karon-san see me like this!" she said aghast.

Knowing what Ahiru meant, Fakir sighed quietly. "Explaining you to Karon will be complicated…especially considering you don't have any clothes. Which mean we will have to take care of that first…" At that, Fakir shifted his eyes awkwardly away from Ahiru.

Seeing Fakir look away made Ahiru feel self-conscious once again. Her cheeks reddened, and in her mortification, she couldn't help but blurt out, "Well it's not like I can help being like this every time I turn back into a girl!…That's just how it happens!"

The volume of Ahiru's remark did not go unnoticed by the neighbors. "Who's making such a ruckus this early in the morning?!" demanded a muffled voice out of the blue, surprising everyone, but especially the offending red head.

"Quack!"

A window burst open, and an old man looked out of one of the homes that were next to the town square, ready to give a tongue lashing to whomever would disturb his sleep. But to the surprise of the ruddy faced man wearing his droopy sleeping cap, there was no one there; only a pile of innocuous leftover embers from the bonfire met his eyes.

"…Strange…I thought I heard something," he pulled the window shut again and muttered as he went back to bed, "Hmph, must be the beer from last night …"

Under the grumbling man, Fakir, Scheherazade, and Ahiru huddled in the shadow of the building. When they heard the man shut the window, Fakir and Scheherazade glanced at the cloak Fakir had in his arms, which he had grabbed along with Ahiru to pull her out of view. Only now, the petit figure of the red-haired girl was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a small lump wiggled in the heap of fabric until finally a familiar feathered head appeared from the folds.

Ahiru made a weary face when she managed to get the rest of herself disentangled; the crystal pendent around her neck sparkled as it caught a stray ray of light.

The yellow bird sighed sardonically. _Well, that answers the question if I was a duck still or not…_

Ahiru felt Fakir's arm shift around her. She looked up and saw him sigh. "It's probably better that you stay like this for a short while, Ahiru."

He picked up the cloak from around her and draped it back over his own shoulders, but kept one arm around her. Once he had the cloak in place, Fakir held Ahiru in close to him, making sure to keep her out of the cold morning air now that she was back in her avian form and less able to handle the chill.

Nesting cozily now in his arm, Ahiru blushed when she felt the warmth from Fakir's body. When he spoke to her again, it took the duck a moment before she realized he was speaking to her. "We don't know how exactly her story affected you or the town. After we find you something to wear you could stay at the watermill for a while, and once I get some sense of what exactly is going on we can decide what to do next."

Ahiru consented and gave a quiet "Qua" to show her assent. Though she was excited at the knowledge she could become a girl again, she couldn't help but wonder about the circumstances of her transformation and what it would lead to.

Looking up at the sky, Ahiru saw that some of the stars began to fade and the first bright strokes of daybreak appeared at the horizon. This new dawn would bring with it a lot of questions, uncertainties, and trepidation, but at least right then, Ahiru felt reassured and safe with Fakir, and content that her friend Scheherazade was still by her side. For those two reasons alone, Ahiru could not help but smile at the burgeoning new day.

Endnote ---

Wow, it's been a while since I updated this story. Sorry about the wait, but school had been atrocious, especially with six graduate school applications going at the same time (it feels like senior year in high school all over again), so it's hard for me to find time to write. Sigh

Anyway, about Scheherazade's dance, I described some real ballet mimes to describe her movements. But through a suggestion from Tomoyo, I purposefully wrote her "dialogue" in a choppy manner to show the action "like the individual phrases of a fluid dance," so that it sounds less vocal.

And as always, love and thanks to Tomoyoichijouji for beta-proofing my story.


	5. What Once Was

_Fifth Night – "What Once Was"_

The hour hand on the grandfather clock inside the Schmied antique shop had already struck nine by the time Fakir came downstairs. The bedraggled figure of the young man was a stark contrast to his usual alert and wakeful state in the morning, and Karon looked questioningly at his son as Fakir rubbed his eyes, trying unsuccessfully to rid the stubborn remnants of sleep from his mind.

"Are you feeling all right Fakir? It's very unlike you to be up so late," Karon asked in concern.

Fakir mumbled, "No…I was-I was thinking about a story last night," he explained halfheartedly. While that was not completely true, it wasn't entirely false either. Fakir had spent the rest of the previous night trying to figure out what had happened to Ahiru and had fallen asleep only when his mind had been tired to the point that it could no longer link thoughts together coherently.

It was then that another figure descended from the staircase. Scheherazade did not look like she had slept much either, but from her expression it appeared it had more to do with anxiety than confusion. Carried by Scheherazade, Ahiru the duck looked too as if she had barely slept, but unlike Fakir and Scheherazade, there was an element of anticipation in her eyes. Fakir gazed for a long minute at the two as they came down the stairs, his eyes focused mainly on the slim figure of Scheherazade.

Scheherazade avoided Fakir's gaze and there was notable tension between them as she descended the stairs. This did not go unnoticed by Karon as he greeted Scheherazade and received a weak nod in return. Seeing Fakir's unusually sharp stare, Karon wondered if something had happened between the two. But when he saw the little bundle of yellow feathers in Scheherazade's arms, he asked, "Scheherazade, where did that duck come from?"

Astonished by the question, Fakir turned his attention to his foster father. "What do you mean, Karon? That's Ahiru."

Karon only gave Fakir a puzzled look and said, "Ahiru? But isn't that the name of that girl you know from school?"

At this a realization struck Fakir and he glanced quickly at Ahiru who also seemed to be catching onto what was going on.

To Karon, Fakir quickly said, "We found the duck yesterday and brought her home before you came back from your errand. I forgot to tell you about her last night."

Karon raised a thick eyebrow, not quite convinced. But he decided he was probably thinking too much, and that bringing home a small duck in and of itself was harmless enough. The old shopkeeper smiled benignly at the two young people before him and said, "If that's the case then I don't mind if you want to keep her in the house for a while. But I think the duck would be happier living out in the woods where it belongs, so it might be better if you returned it to the wild later on."

"I know…" Fakir acknowledged Karon's words absentmindedly and looked at Ahiru and Scheherazade. _It seems Scheherazade's story has affected more than just Ahiru,_ Fakir thought darkly.

* * *

_Somehow Karon regained his memory of Ahiru the girl, but at the same time lost his memory of Ahiru the duck. It almost seem as if Karon's memories had rewound and he is now able to recollect a forgotten past. But the strange thing is that Karon still remembered Scheherazade perfectly. Why only Ahiru? And why were only his memories of her as a duck affected? Is it because of what that girl said last night?_

Through the rest of the afternoon Fakir revolved these thoughts over in his mind. The three of them, Fakir, and Scheherazade carrying Ahiru, had strolled through town in the late autumn sun with the goal of buying Ahiru some clothes. A bundle of clothing wrapped in brown paper and tied neatly with a length of twine was now tucked under Fakir's arm. The three of them were now headed towards the water mill where Ahiru could stay temporarily until Fakir could discover what exactly had happened with the town since Scheherazade told her tale last night.

_Last night._

Fakir's mind drifted back to the events from the previous evening and his green eyes caught the back of Ahiru's feathered head as she traveled ahead of him in Scheherazade's arms. Ahiru had regained her humanity, and at the same time Fakir had discovered that the stranger he harbored under his roof was also a Spinner, a person who, like him, could make stories come to life. But while his writing was what tugged and pulled at the fabrics of reality, Scheherazade's influence came from her voice.

Fakir had managed to free Ahiru from the grasp of one Spinner, only to have her trapped by the words of another. The insecurity and frustration of the situation quietly ate at him. He looked at the duck being held by the other Spinner. Unlike Drosselmeyer, Scheherazade appeared to harbor no ill will. Having seen the two of them interact, the young man could tell there was a genuine feeling of friendship between the two. But no matter if they were friend or not, and no matter if Ahiru forgave her or not, in his heart Fakir could not bring himself to fully trust this stranger.

As he looked away from Ahiru, Fakir noticed a pair of ladies staring at them. Although they were too far for him to make out what they were saying, he could however tell that their gaze was on the duck Scheherazade held. This was unusual, as the townsfolk had grown accustomed to the sight of the yellow duckling and her human companions. No one had so much as batted an eye at them yesterday. But now that Fakir thought about it, he realized how queerly all the townspeople were reacting to the sight of Ahiru the duck. Chuckles and whispers, these were the reaction he had received when he first started carrying Ahiru around after the _Prince and the Raven_ story ended. The feeling of déjà vu made Fakir realize something.

_So the townspeople don't remember Ahiru either? Then that means she's affected the whole town then._ Fakir stared incredulously at the figure walking in front of him. _How deep does her power run?_

Fakir frowned at his thoughts. The only way to find out would be to keep his senses sharp.

While Fakir was lost in his thoughts, the three of them had arrived at the water mill. Scheherazade inadvertently had lead most of the way; she had remembered the place when Fakir showed it to her on her first day in Kinkan, and therefore had known exactly where it was and how to get there. Walking past her, Fakir took out an old bronze key and unlocked the lock on the mill's door. The smell of stale air and dust greeted the three visitors. Ahiru grimaced, as this would have to be her home or a while.

"We'll have to clean the place up a bit. You can wait outside until I tidy up the place," Fakir said to Ahiru. Ahiru however shook her head and pointed her wing at the bundle of clothes.

"Right now?" he frowned at her.

"Quack, quack, quack!" _I want to help too,_ Ahiru sat up and Scheherazade, understanding her friend's intentions, lowered her to the floor. Ahiru kicked away at the dust around her webbed feet. Looking back at Fakir, her adamant expression said to him, _I can help now so I want to._

Fakir sighed. He walked over to the stack of flour that doubled as a bed and put the package of clothes down.

"Fine then; I'll be waiting outside," he said briskly and closed the door on his way out.

When Scheherazade opened the door a few minutes later to let Fakir back in Ahiru was transformed into her human form. She had already gotten to work on sweeping the floor and was wearing a familiar outfit that they had bought earlier.

Whether by coincidence or design (of which Fakir suspected the latter) they had been able to find a set of clothes that were exactly the same as the ones Ahiru used to wear. Ahiru for her part was happy to find clothes she was familiar with. And so there, dressed in her yellow cuffed turtleneck, puffy shorts, and orange clogs everything seemed like it as it had been a year ago, save for the pendent around her neck. The crystal clear jewel was the one constant reminder on Ahiru's person that everything was not the same as it once was.

Fakir took notice of Ahiru's awkward but earnest smile, lightly freckled nose, and flaming red hair. What surprised him was that until that moment he hadn't realized he missed seeing her like this. A part of him wondered if that explained the feeling of comfort he had felt the night before. She was back as he best remembered her: a clumsy, but determined girl.

Absorbed in her sweeping, Ahiru was staring keenly at the dust on the wooden floor when Fakir came in, her hands tightly gripping the broomstick and stepping gingerly around the clumps of dust she had swept up.

"At the rate you're sweeping, we'll be here all day just to get the floor cleaned," Fakir remarked as he walked up to Ahiru and gently pulled the broom stick away from her. Ahiru at first glowered indignantly but when she looked at his face and saw the soft expression there, the words of rebuttal on her tongue vanished and she blinked in surprise.

_Fakir seems happy all of a sudden. I wonder why…_ Ahiru wondered to herself, but then shrugged the question away. He had been so solemn and taciturn lately that Ahiru was simply glad that her friend's mood had improved a little. She smiled to herself. Whatever it was that made Fakir drop his sullen mood, she was thankful for it. And with that thought, the red-head turned away and tried to reapply herself to cleaning out the room.

* * *

The room now cleaned and organized, Fakir stood leaning against the wooden table and contemplated what to do next while Ahiru and Scheherazade sat on the bed of flour sacks facing him from the other side of the room.

"Based on Karon's reaction to Ahiru this morning and the reaction of the townspeople it seems like her place in the story has been restored. Whether that means her position in _The Prince and the Raven_ story or her role in an entirely new story is uncertain. The key would be in knowing what exactly you said last night," Fakir directed his gaze to Scheherazade and there was no sign of warmth in his eyes.

"What exactly did you say last night about Ahiru? Tell me." Fakir asked in a voice that was much less a question than a demand.

Scheherazade met his eyes briefly but could not bear to meet them for long and so lowered her eyes again, all the while saying nothing. Fakir looked at her with displeasure, his patience wearing thin once again. Seeing Fakir's irritation and Scheherazade's hesitation, Ahiru inched closer to the black-haired girl's side and said, "It's okay, Sheh-chan. You don't have to be scared. We just want to know what exactly you said so Fakir can try to figure out what's going on right now with my being a girl again and all."

At Ahiru's comforting words, Scheherazade relaxed a fraction and her back straightened a little as she looked back at Fakir. She raised a slender index finger, touched her lips, and pointed it towards Fakir.

Fakir was puzzled by her mime for a second, then said, "You're saying you repeated my words?" Scheherazade nodded.

Both Ahiru and Fakir were startled. Fakir took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

He could remember clearly what he had said and what Scheherazade claimed she repeated. …_The way things used to be? The way you were a year ago; the life you had then…the way you were a year ago… the life you had then…_Yes, that would explain why she was human again. A year ago they were still trapped in Drosselmeyer's story and Ahiru had the ability to transform between being a duck and a girl. But what about Princess Tutu – has that particular ability been returned to her as well?

Opening his eyes Fakir saw a concerned Ahiru gazing back at him. "Ahiru, do you think you can become Princess Tutu?"

Ahiru twisted her lips and frowned deeply in thought. "I don't know, but I'll try." Her hands cupped her pendent and she closed her eyes. Before when she needed to transform Ahiru would think about the person she wanted to help, be it Mytho or someone possessed by a heart shard. This time Ahiru focused her thoughts on helping Scheherazade.

But nothing happened. After a full minute of concentrating, Ahiru gave up. "Gah! It's not working." Ahiru sighed in obvious frustration. "I don't think I can, Fakir!"

For his part Fakir wasn't surprised by the result of Ahiru's attempt. He said calmly, "Princess Tutu was Drosselmeyer's character and her power was derived from the Prince's heart shard. Now that Mytho has his heart back and the _Prince and Raven_ story has a proper ending it would make sense that you can't transform into Tutu anymore."

Ahiru however was rather disappointed and said, "I was hoping I could though. Then maybe I could help Sheh-chan somehow."

Hearing her earnest words Fakir said nothing for a moment. "…It's better if you don't. We don't know what exactly is going on yet so it would be safest for you to stay here for now. I'll go walk around town and see if I can uncover anything else while I'm at it." He moved away from the table and began walking towards the door. "Wait here, I'll come back and-"

"No!"

Surprised by the stern protest, Fakir turned around to see Ahiru standing up and facing him. "You can't treat me like you did Mytho. You can't just have me sitting here. I don't want to stay hidden away like this!"

Fakir was briefly stunned. But he soon realized she was right. Ahiru was not the heartless Mytho that Fakir had grown up caring for. Having a heart, she had her own opinion and her own willpower, and he had seen just how strong those traits of her were. He could not make her to do what he thought was best, and though this frustrated Fakir, he reminded himself that, like he had for Mytho with a heart becoming ever more complete, he also had to take into account _her _feelings, instead of only his own.

"Staying here is the safest thing for you right now," Fakir declared but as Ahiru was about to open her mouth to contest he quickly followed, "but you're right, I can't keep you here against your will."

Fakir sighed and looked at the dumbfounded Ahiru. "Knowing you, you'll probably find some way to get out anyway. You can come with me then, but don't run off where I can't see you." To Scheherazade, he said, "You come with us too. You are the one who told her story; maybe you can detect something we can't."

Scheherazade nodded her consent, and soon their little party was off to explore the town. Ahiru could not help but think about how different Fakir's actions have been from a year ago. Back then he had locked Mytho up in the library to bar him from going to the Fire Festival. It wasn't so much that he had grown nicer, but rather more comfortable with his and other people's feelings. At this Ahiru felt a bubble of warmth in her chest and it pushed the corners of her lips up into a smile.

* * *

Walking the streets of Kinkan Town, Fakir, Ahiru, and Scheherazade proceeded through the town quietly. Fakir's keen green eyes drifted watchfully to the people they passed, noting their attitude and reaction to their small party, particularly towards Ahiru. But so far no one had approached them or given them much thought. It seemed there was nothing abnormal about the red haired girl's appearance.

The peaceful nature of the town made Ahiru wonder if it was really necessary for Fakir to be so nervous. Seeing the buildings and places she knew so well at eye-level again and in a human form at first made her feel uneasy, but with Fakir and Scheherazade's presence by her side and the calm environment of the town Ahiru's discomfort was soon eased. The people enjoying the afternoon by the pizzeria, the buildings that hugged the bank of the stream as it wound through town, the cathedral in the distance; it was as if she was coming home and seeing these familiar places again for the first time in ages.

As they approached the street leading to Kinkan Academy, Ahiru suddenly felt an arm around her neck and two familiar high-pitched voices in her ear.

"Gatcha!" squealed Lillie as Ahiru gasped for air.

Pike's face came around behind her and the purple haired girl gave Ahiru an enthusiastic pat on the back as she laughed, "You totally didn't hear us coming up behind you, did you?"

Ahiru managed to croak out an amazed, "Eh?! Pike? Lillie? You guys still remember me?!"

At this Lillie and Pike froze and looked at each other before Lillie turned back and rubbed Ahiru's cheeks. "Oh that's our silly Ahiru-chan alright! Who could possibly forget you, with your utterly adorable clumsiness?"

"But-!" Ahiru wanted to say, yet before she could say any more Pike and Lillie finally took notice of Fakir and Scheherazade, with the former looking exasperated and the latter looking confused.

Pike pulled Ahiru to one side and whispered in a prying voice, "Say, do you know who that girl is? Why is she walking with Fakir-sama?"

"Uh, she's Sheh-chan-I mean-her name is uh…Sche…Scheher…Scheherazade; she's my friend! We uh, ran into Fakir on the way to-to…!" Ahiru stammered, her head spinning.

"To school?" Lillie finished her sentence for her. "But Fakir hasn't come to school for months! He's turning into a delinquent just like I thought he would!"

"Er no, that's not-!" Ahiru began but was again interrupted by her friend.

"Speaking of school, did you start working on the paper project yet?" asked Pike. "Schafer-sensei said to have it ready by Friday." "We were talking to Anna yesterday and she said she met an upperclassman who's in the drama department and he was going to help her with her project!" Lillie gushed. Pike smirked. "And I think there's more to it than just that, but of course Anna wouldn't tell us anything else so I went and found out who he was and then… "

Ahiru had been completely lost in her friends' stream of babbles, so much so that she couldn't even keep up with what they were saying. But as the thought of school sank in, an idea suddenly struck Ahiru.

_School…classes…Pike and Lillie…could it be…!_

"Guys, listen!" Ahiru said without warning, "I have to go to the school right now; I'll be right back!" The red haired girl then turned and dashed off without waiting for an answer from the others.

Ahiru's sudden action prompted the girls' gossip to come to an abrupt stop as they turned heels and raced after her. "H-hey! Ahiru-chan, wait a minute! Wait for us!" cried Pike.

With Pike and Lillie running off to follow Ahiru, Fakir wondered if he should follow as well. But he had seen Ahiru's eyes light up at whatever thought that propelled her suddenly towards the Academy. Since she had her friends going after her, Fakir knew at least she wouldn't be alone, but having all of them running towards the school was going to attract attention and Fakir was not in favor of that. Better to walk there slowly and meet her at the Academy's gates. With that Fakir too started walking towards the school. Scheherazade watched him go and after a few steps she followed in his wake.

* * *

Ahiru didn't stop for breath along the way as she made a beeline towards the Kinkan Academy dormitories. She ran past the front gates, around the fountain with the dancers, and under the flowered archway before reaching the girl's dormitory. Rushing right through the front door of the building, the frantically running red-head charged down the hallway and tearing past the floors stairway by stairway. She only stopped when she reached the bottom of the last flight of stairs that lay between her and her goal. Panting but unfazed from the exercise, Ahiru swallowed as she began making her way up the last set of stairs and down the short stretch of hallway.

Her hand touched the cool metal handle of the attic door and with one gentle push, the wooden door opened and a familiar sight welcomed her. A yellow duck pillow sat by the window sill in front of her while to her left was a small wooden table with books and knick-knacks on it. Ahiru walked into the quiet room. The little pot of flowers by the window was healthy and green, showing it was well-cared for and watered. Walking further into the room, Ahiru looked up and saw her quilt folded rather haphazardly, like the sleeper had been awakened suddenly and had to make her bed quickly before heading out.

This was her room as she remembered it. Everything was as it was when she still lived here; even the red oil lamp she had taken in was sitting exactly where she had left it by the window. It was almost as if this room had still been hers and someone had been carefully cleaning and maintaining the room for the day its inhabitant returned.

Seeing this, hearing her friends call her name again, and knowing she could be a girl again, it was as if she had been transported back into the life she had known and lived months ago. Ahiru had never really thought of missing her old life very much, but now that her former life had been handed back to her did Ahiru realize how much she missed it all. She missed chatting with Lillie and Pike, she missed feeding the birds in the morning before she went to class, and more so than anything else, she missed the feeling of being on the dance floor and being able to dance. Ahiru had been ready to give it all up before because she knew it never belonged to her, because that wasn't who she really was. The ordinary room in front of her was supposed to be the fantasy, the fairy tale. But how could she convince herself of that with it now standing directly in front of her? She was real now, and so was her love for the life she had known while living in this little attic dorm room. She couldn't push all the desires back now; she can't.

Here was her chance, to live out the aspiration and effort she had left behind. Even if it would only be for a little while, even if it would not last forever, Ahiru wanted to move a little closer to her dream.

* * *

The sun was beginning to set by the time Ahiru walked out of the front gate of Kinkan Academy. Lillie and Pike had followed her to her room and it took the red-head some time before she managed to convince her friends that nothing was wrong despite her racing up the dorms like a hurricane.

Standing by the iron gates were Fakir and Scheherazade, both of whom turned their eyes to Ahiru when they caught sight of her. Fakir said nothing to Ahiru but looked questioning at her, his arms crossed. Ahiru pursed her lips, knowing Fakir would disagree with her decision, but this was her chance.

She took a deep breath and began recounting what she saw. From Fakir's expression she could tell the news didn't entirely surprise him, but as she predicted, he didn't look pleased either. Ahiru swallowed and said, "I know you're not going to agree with me, but I…I really want to go back to the Academy." She looked down and twisted the corner of her shirt, her face in deep concentration. "I know I'm a duck, but as far as I could remember I've always dreamed about dancing. As a duck I can't dance and I accept that…but now that I'm a girl…" Ahiru suddenly looked up, "I want to try again, even if it's only for a little while!"

Fakir sighed softly, and rather than looking angry, the expression on his face was grave and sad. He remembered Ahiru's silent tears when she watched Scheherazade dance. For her to have another chance at her once impossible dream: Fakir could not refuse her request. Maybe it was his own selfishness at work, trying to ease his feeling of guilt for having had persuaded her to give up that dream, but even if she was trapped in another story shouldn't she be allowed at least this one small wish, this one small bit of happiness?

"Fine then." Fakir's acquiescent reply made Ahiru's eyes widen in surprise.

She had been worried and confused by his calm but solemn mien, and had not expected him to agree so readily without a fight. Still not quite able to believe it herself, Ahiru tried to reassure Fakir, "Are you sure? I mean, you can come visit me, and-and I'll be sure to come by Karon-san's shop everyday so you don't have to worry about me, and of course I can also see Sheh-chan everyday that way," Ahiru prattled on, but the excitement in her voice was showing in her voice as she thought about her future at the Academy. "Ah, but I'll have to do that after school, or else the teacher will get mad at me for skipping class, and I should go to afternoon practice too if I want to get better this time. Oh, but that means I can't come in the afternoon then! I guess I could come after dinner, but I know Karon-san goes to bed early and I don't want to disturb him and-"

"Idiot," Fakir said softly, effectively cutting Ahiru short. "You don't have to try and figure everything out at once. Come over whenever you have time so I know how you're doing, and in the meantime I'll keep looking around to figure out what exactly is going on in town. Just remember to keep an eye out for anything unusual at school and tell me about it as soon as possible."

Ahiru blinked. "Oh...okay!" She suddenly grinned, and seeing the bright smile on this girl's face, it suddenly occurred to Fakir that he had not seen her smile like that in a long time. Her infectious joy lightened his mood, which for the last few days had been overshadowed by anxiety and frustration.

A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips as he said in a gently sarcastic tone, "And this time try to put some effort into learning how to dance properly so you won't look like a grace-less ditz."

The prompt had the desired affect as Ahiru placed her hands on her hips and said indignantly, "And what if I _do_ get better?"

Fakir smirked, accepting Ahiru's challenge. "If you _do_ improve, then…" he paused to think before meeting the red-head's eyes, "…then I will dance a pas de deux with you, because the male partner in a pas de deux is the most qualified person to discern the abilities of the ballerina. Then I will be able to decide how much better you had gotten, if at all, since that last time on stage."

Ahiru knew exactly what incident Fakir was talking about. Her first pas de deux with Fakir had been a mild disaster, when he had graciously left her to fall off the stage. The provocation certainly raised Ahiru's hackles as she remembered the embarrassing event, but it then dawned on her that this was the first time Fakir had volunteered to dance since the story had ended.

_He said he had given up dancing, but maybe in his heart he still wants to dance, just like I do._ The thought pacified Ahiru and with her spirit full of anticipation, she smiled back at Fakir. "Alright then, I _will_ get better, just you watch!"

Fakir snorted, unimpressed. Ahiru yelled at Fakir for not taking her seriously, for her part seeming to have forgotten all their earlier worries. The situation quickly dissolved into another bickering match between the former prima ballerina and the reincarnated former storybook knight. Scheherazade, whose presence was all but forgotten in their conversation, smiled privately in the warm glow of the setting sun.

Endnote --

Man that took me a long time to get this chapter out. I apologize to the people who've been waiting for this story to be updated. School eats my time away and now that I'm in graduate school (eep!) my time is even tighter than before. I'm still gonna work on this story, but finding time to write is going to be a real crunch for me.


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